


The Martyr's Cry

by Ginger_R



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Animal Death, Bottom John Marston, But Arthur loves him and so do we, Doubt of Paternity, Jealous, John is not very smart, Knotting, M/M, Masturbation, Mating Bites, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Murder, Non-Consensual Touching, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Period-Typical Homophobia, Possessive Arthur Morgan, Possessive Behavior, Protective Arthur Morgan, Rutting, Top Arthur Morgan, Werewolf Arthur Morgan, Werewolf Bites, Werewolf Hunters, Werewolves, aggressive behavior, painful transformation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-22
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:42:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 15
Words: 54,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26045200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ginger_R/pseuds/Ginger_R
Summary: “These creatures are extremely territorial, Mr. Marston. Most importantly, once the inner beast chooses his mate, he will go to the ends of hell to bring it back. "The old gypsy woman's empty eyes caused John's spine to chill."B... but I am a man!" How could he be?The gypsy laughed at John's confusion. "That's what matters least. He chose you, John. The beast wants you, and I can see... he marked you. He will kill anything that is between you two, to protect you."In the background, a roar cut the air. "And he's here."
Relationships: John Marston/Arthur Morgan
Comments: 102
Kudos: 252





	1. Leaving the Routine... Too Much

"Ah shit’, again?" Arthur snorted angrily when the line of his fishing rod snapped a second time. Wasn't that hellish heat bad enough, now he couldn't even fish anymore? "What the hell is going on?" He heard a weak laugh from his father, a few feet from where he was.

"How many times do I have to tell you not to pull the stick so hard, Arthur?" Hosea was holding on to keep from laughing out loud. He didn't want to scare the fish, after all. "Don't push yourself too hard, son. It's more a matter of style."

"Style? This is more like some supernatural throw. Sorry, Hosea. Fishing wasn't made for me." Arthur sighed resignedly, looking for a cigarette in his pocket. "I think I'm just going to lean against that tree, and see you do all the work."

"Very funny, Arthur." Hosea just shrugged and decided to give up. It was a hot sun and he had found a good shade to sit and enjoy the moment, after all he really liked to fish. Arthur leaned closer to the tree, enjoying the silence and peace of that place. The peace of the place, along with the birdsong was almost poetic. Arthur doesn't remember the last time he felt so good.

Arthur took a long drag on his cigarette and absorbed as much of the sweet nicotine as possible, sending it straight to his lungs. "We needed it. After all the mess of Blackwater. What happened to the Callander boys, Jenny...and John... getting hurt..." He breathed slowly as if trying to get the images of injured John out of his mind. It was so close to losing him. _Again._ The thought made the man's chest quiver. Found John wounded on the mountain, his face deformed by the attack of the wolves, had affected Arthur more than expected. He tried his best to avoid such memories.

“It was all shit, I have to agree with you. I miss those boys too... and Jenny... that girl had a special glow. ” Hosea was thoughtful for a few moments. “And as for John, he’s recovering well, son. That brat is as strong as a weed." With his eyes still on his fishing rod, Hosea could still feel Arthur's nervousness radiate. "You know how this young man has the gift to get himself into trouble."

“We almost lost him once, Hosea. I didn't want to risk losing again.” Arthur felt comfortable talking to his father. More than anyone in the camp, even more than Dutch. For he knew that Hosea would not scold him for sharing what he felt. He could tell a little how he felt, what he thought... his fears and anxieties. It was suffocating him, and he really had no one to talk to.

Hosea eyes, looking at him steadily, like a father looking at his son when he wants to teach him a moral lesson. “It's been a long time, Arthur. For your own sake, and John's ... you need to let go. You need to forget. You are torturing yourself and torturing John. Does he deserve so much contempt?”

"I know... it's just..." Arthur couldn't describe the tightness in his chest each time he looked at John. Despite the rude way I treated him, the fear I had of losing the young man was frightening. "After that year he was gone, after Jack's birth. It still hurts a lot, you know? I mean, he left. He left them all." _Left me_.

"Nobody knows what's going on in the other's head, Arthur." Hosea said, as he calmly pulled a fish over the edge of the ravine. "He claims not to be the father of little Jack. But nobody gives him credit. No one believes him. Have you ever stopped to think how hard it must be to have everyone against you, when you know you're telling the truth?" Hosea looked at Arthur, who was now looking intently back. "I'm not disproving Abigail. Don't get me wrong. I'm just saying that everyone is against John, in that respect. He feels cornered."

Arthur looked at the floor, fixing his gaze on the dirt below his feet. "Abigail guarantees that Jack is John's son, Hosea. Who are we to say no?"

"And who are we to make sure it is?" Hosea still did not look at Arthur, handling the fish off the hook. "We can't say anything, son. Just, don't be so hard on him, okay?"

"I don't promise anything." The cowboy smiled. He was worried about that idiot. Very much indeed. Between the fights between John and Abigail, the Blackwater mess, Micah always slung over Dutch's shoulder ... and the gang needed him, his family needed him. But even more than ever, John needed him.

"I know you will behave." Hosea laughed. "Hey, changing the subject, did you hear about the bear that is attacking these lands? I heard two dummies in Valentine yesterday talking about it."

"Bear? Here? Are you crazy, old man?" Arthur stubbed out his cigarette on the bottom of his boot, and grabbed his diary to start doodling the figure of Hosea, who had thrown the line back into the crystal clear water. "Are you talking about that giant in the Grizzlies that left you shaking in your boots?" Arthur laughed, earning a sulky look from Hosea. “I hunted and killed him, remember? I made good money with that skin.”

"It seems to be another, since cows appeared completely smashed on a property north of the city this week. But I think it was bullshit. A bear decimating entire herds?"

"Maybe it's more than one?" Arthur pondered, without giving much importance. "Still, bears here? It looks kind of unbelievable, old man. They don't get that close to cities."

"Perhaps you are right." Hosea picked up the fishing line. "This lake will give nothing else, better to get out of here. Are you going to stay there eating flies, Arthur?"

"Nah, I'm going back to camp with you. I'll see if Dutch has any work for me, I'm tired of staying at the camp. I hope he doesn't ask me to get Micah out of jail again. I swear if he asks, I'll let that rat rot behind bars. Or better yet, to be hanged. "Arthur stood up, dusting his hat, and putting it back on his head." I don't know why the Dutch trust him so much. I mean, since he arrived, everything he did was shit."

"I know you're frustrated, Arthur. Believe me. I am, too." Hosea said, walking slowly up to Silver Dollar. "But we have to trust Dutch. We owe it to him, son. Let's take a vote of confidence, but we'll be keeping our eyes open, okay?"

Arthur felt more secure with his father's words. He was right, things were going to get better. Getting close to his new mustang, Iron Eagle, Arthur patted him on the neck, and the stallion turned his head to the man, looking for snacks. "Interesting you, huh?" Arthur has loved horses for as long as he can remember. Strong animals, with unique personalities and

unstoppable. "Here it is, boy." Offering Eagle a sugar cube, Arthur smiled when the stallion gladly accepted the snack.

"He's a good horse, isn't he?" Hosea watched the interaction of the horse and the rider.

"It is exceeding my expectations. It is a strong animal and is hardly frightened, is it, big boy?" The horse nudges Arthur with its snout, probably wanting more snacks. "Now enough, big guy. Let's get going, otherwise we'll be too late."

"It's a good idea." So the two go to Horseshoe Overlook, wanting to get there as quickly as possible, some reasons bigger than others.

* * *

"You are pathetic, John Marston! PATHETIC!" John's head looked like it was going to explode at any moment. It was the third time Abigail was yelling at him, just that afternoon. He rubbed his tired eyes, just wishing the earth would open under his feet and swallow him. His face hurt like hell, but he was too embarrassed to go to Miss Grimshaw or Strauss and ask for something to ease his pain. He was already used to dealing with the pain alone and this time would be no different. "Aren’t you say anything? Aren't you going to become a man once in your goddamn life!?" Abigail's face was red and the tears were threatening to return in those blue eyes.

"What do you want me to say, Abigail? What do you want me to do?" John couldn't take it anymore. He was overwhelmed, everything was about him. Abigail took all her frustrations out on him, everything he did was wrong, everything he said was wrong. He felt that she was tired, exhausted, but so was he. The two were wearing out together, just doing harm to each other and he didn't want to break her heart, he didn't want to hurt her, because despite everything, he cared.

The panic had started to take over and he didn't want to get into another fight. The fights were constant, and they were not good, especially for Jack, who was not to blame for anything. He was just a kid, for God's sake, and he was in the middle of that damn mess, and John couldn't feel more guilty about it. He was ready to give one more sharp reply to the woman in front of him, when a thick and familiar voice echoed through the camp, making John's heart race and his mind settle: 

"We're here!" Arthur announced as soon as he and Hosea arrived at the camp. John wanted to run and throw himself into the older cowboy's arms. Like when he was a kid. As soon as Arthur dismounted from the stallion, the blue eyes darted across the field looking for the familiar brown eyes, automatically. John gave the older man a pleading look, and Arthur took it. He always took it.

"Marston, can you come here for a minute?" Arthur's thick voice crossed the camp. John felt relief seep through his pores.

"I'm going, Arthur."

“John…” Abigail started to ask, with a hard look.

“I need to fulfill my obligations, Abigail. We talk later." He said, starting to pass by the dark-haired woman. He started to address Arthur, wanting nothing more than to run and throw himself into the older cowboy's arms. He could feel the anger radiating from Abigail.

“What about your obligations to your family? With me?" Turning around completely irritated, Abigail walks away, heading towards the other girls. "Coward. Damn coward. ”

"Problems in paradise, Marston?" Arthur was taking the fishing gear out of Iron Eagle's saddlebags and handing it to John. As I was always terrible at fishing. So I am going to hunt, and you are going with me. We need to feed all these people.”

"First of all: shut up." Said John, not wanting to hear another lecture from Arthur on how to be a good father. "Second, you always say I'm a terrible hunter. Why don't you take Charles?" John desperately wanted to get out of that place. And with Arthur? He would give anything. But he couldn't sound desperate, he needed to make Arthur sure that he wanted to take him.

“Are you seeing Charles around here? And another, you and Abigail will kill each other if you stay in the same space any longer. Give her time, and go do something useful, Marston. I need help to feed the camp, so let's combine the useful with the pleasant. Go pack your things, we'll be out soon.”

John sighed in defeat, but turned to go to his tent to pack his things and seal Old Boy. Arthur also thought it was his fault alone. That he was worthless and did not value the family he had. John sighed in defeat, but turned to go to his tent to pack his things and seal the Old Boy. Arthur also thought it was his fault. That he was worthless and did not value the family he had. after all Arthur had lost important people already, and he knew how they were missed. He knew the pain of losing a son and just didn't want it for his friend. John wanted to be able to love Abigail with all his strength and believe that Jack was his son, he wanted to be able take them away and live a fairy tale of a happy family. But that would never work. And he would never abandon the gang, and more than that... he would never abandon _Arthur_.

From an early age Arthur had proved to be his safe haven, and in him, John found more than just a brother. Despite the fights and offenses that sometimes came out, John found himself looking at the older man more than he should have. In the simple task when Arthur went to cut wood, when his shirt stuck to his sweaty muscles, or the way his hands gripped the ax firmly, or how he grunted each time the tool went down hard and chopped the wood... everything it graced John's dreams, making a simple dream a wet and pleasurable dream, much to the young man's shame. John felt dirty for dreaming like this about his brother, but he couldn't help the thoughts that ate at him for the next few days. No woman messed with him as much as Arthur did. He was 26, and had never imagined himself with another man, but he often dreamed of Arthur on top of him.

Completely lost in these thoughts, John did not notice this same man approaching him as he slowly packed up his things at the Old Boy. "You are slower than usual today, Johnny Boy." John couldn't help but jump startled by Arthur's voice just behind him. Turning around, he faces the most beautiful blue eyes in the world. "Are you going to stay there all day, or are we going to hunt?" Arthur gives a half smile that makes butterflies in John's stomach float. He swallows, looking away from the older man.

"Do you want to stop bothering me? I'm finishing up here. I'll meet you at the exit of the camp." John turned away, not wanting to look at that beautiful pair of blue jewelry anymore. He was afraid that his knees would weaken too much and give in to his weight.

"Okay, princess." Arthur left and John could see that he was heading towards Hosea. “Hosea, we are going to hunt. Bring some meat to this camp.”

The man, who was putting the fish on Pearson's table, looked at Arthur in concern. "Avoid the north of Valentine, son. There are really aggressive bears there. And it looks like they're more than one." He looked at John, who was just finishing packing. "Will you take John? He's not such a good hunter.” Worry flashed across Hosea's tired face. "Why don't you ask Charles to come with you?"

Arthur looked around, looking for curious eyes. "He and Abigail... are fighting a lot. I'm going to get John out of here for a while. Let them both breathe, you know." The tension between John and Abigail was palpable. Arthur felt that... John could explode at any moment, and something inside him begged to get that boy out of there.

"Okay, son. Just be careful."

"I'll take care of him, Hosea. If that's what you're worried about, old man." Arthur turned to look for the young man. "JOHN. I'm going with or without you."

Arthur barely took two steps and Abigail was on her feet like a chewing gum. Twisting her fingers nervously, she knew she couldn't speak to Arthur the way she did John, so she chose the words well before they could get out of her mouth: "Are you and John leaving, Arthur? Where are you going?”

Arthur didn't bother to find the woman's anxious eyes, he was afraid he wouldn't know what to say if he did. ”We're going after meat, Abigail. We need to feed all these people, don't you think? And John is already better, he can help more.”

“Perhaps you are right. Maybe even you can put some reason in that hollow head. ”Arthur clenched his teeth. He hated to hear Abigail talking about John like that… he didn't deserve it. “Talk to him Arthur, make him see the truth.”

Arthur forced himself to look into the woman's eyes. "And what truth would that be?"

"Well, that he must accept me and Jack in his life. And just us." She said as if it were the most absolute truth in the world. "We are his family, he must stay by my side. I love him, Arthur. I just want his good.”

 _Me too, Abigail. Me too._ "I am not going to get into couples affairs, Abigail. We are going to hunt, not do therapy." Arthur spoke, but sighed in resignation and looked at the woman again. "But I will… try to talk to him, okay? I do not promise anything.”

"Thank you, Arthur!" Smiling, Abigail said goodbye, letting Arthur go to find John.

* * *

"Did you hear about bears attacking in Window Rock?" John broke the silence as they rode north of Valentine. "There's nothing else in town. It looks like it attacked an entire herd of cows. They found carcasses scattered across the farm. It looks like they started attacking humans too.”

"These are stories these rednecks tell to scare outsiders, Marston. Don't tell me you believe in this nonsense. Are you afraid?"

"No! No... of course not... it's just..." Arthur could see that John had tensed. "Bears are not my specialty, you know."

"Don't worry about it so much, Johnny." Arthur looked up at the sky, realizing that it was starting to get dark. "Damn it. We'll have to set up camp just ahead. We won't be able to hunt anything today." In fact, Arthur just wanted to get John out of camp as soon as possible, and ended up not realizing it was getting dark.

"Okay, actually, I needed to get out of camp. With everything that's going on... and Mac, Davey and Jenny... I miss them, you know." John sighed, stroking Old Boy's withers. "And Abigail, who doesn't leave me peace. She's in my ear every minute... I can't breathe, I can't think... she follows me like a shadow.." The wounds on his face appeared to be healing well, but John had huge dark circles. He looked like he hadn't slept in days, and he was very thin too. Arthur felt the sudden urge to cradle John against his chest and protect him from everything and everyone. Maybe he could hold on to John for a few days hunting with him?

"She's also stressed and nervous, John. Try to understand her. Creating Jack in the middle of a bunch of outlaws shouldn't be easy either." Arthur wanted to comfort John, not defend Abigail. Why was it so hard to say how he felt?

John looked, shook his feet, patting the horse's belly. "You also think I'm just useless, don't you?"

"What? No! John, no!"

"Why doesn't anyone believe me Arthur? Nobody gives me any credit when I say that the boy is not my son. You just throw the responsibility on me, and make me accept it."

Arthur fell silent. He remembered Hosea's words, which were exactly the same. He had known John for more than 10 years, and had never stopped to think that maybe, just maybe... he could be telling the truth.

"Look, John..."

"No, Arthur. You know what? I don't want to talk about it. That's exactly what I'm running from. Let's just set up camp, okay? I'm tired and hungry."

"Okay, Marston. There looks like a good place, come on."

They set up a small camp, and while John lit the fire, Arthur hunted a rabbit so they could eat. No words had yet been said, and silence hung over the two outlaws. Arthur felt his chest twitch, he wanted to be able to comfort John, to say it was going to be okay, but no sound could leave his mouth. Skinning the rabbit, the animal's blood stained the earth, raising the ferrous smell in the air. They roasted the meat slowly and ate quietly still bathed in silence. They looked at each other from time to time, as if one begged the other to speak first. They were both very proud, and both knew they would be in that silence for a long time before one of them gave up.

John was ready to surrender, when a strange noise of branches breaking, _too close,_ broke the silence, making the hairs on the back of Arthur's neck stand on end. "What the hell?" John braced himself, quickly taking the pistol out of its holster and stood up.

"It came from that side." Arthur pointed to the entrance to the small bush. "Stay here, John. I'll take a look."

“I won't leave you alone, you idiot. Did you forget what they're talking about? There are bears in the area. I'm going with you.” Arthur could see that John was trembling, but he still held his pistol up, aiming for the woods.

"Bears don't show up here, we are very close to town, Marston. It must be some deer, or some injured or lost animal." Arthur held the rifle tightly, looking at the entrance to the forest. "Come, slowly. And stay behind me."

Turning on the small lantern that was hanging from his belt, Arthur could now see a little better. Despite the big full moon that graced the sky, the forest was very dense and closed, making human vision impossible. Entering the forest a little further, there was no trace or sign of anything alive, and the silence was almost deafening. John held the pistol tightly, and his knuckles were now white, so strong was he. ”Arthur? There’s nothing here... let's go back and… ouch!”

Arthur turned in time to see John stumbling over a carcass. On a big antler, more precisely. "What the hell, John. Are you okay?" He grabbed the younger man's arm, helping him to his feet.

"Yes. I don't know how I didn't see that." In front of him was a large carcass of a male deer. Completely shattered. Crushed by something big, very big. Arthur put the flashlight close and I could see that a large amount of meat and organs was missing. The bones were broken and gnawed, and the animal that had done this had extremely powerful teeth, as it had broken the bones as if they were fragile sticks. "I... I think someone was having dinner." John could feel saliva building up in his mouth. "This is recent Arthur, the blood has barely clotted."

Arthur looked around, starting to get nervous. The smell of blood was starting to get very strong, and he himself was starting to get sick. "Let's get out of here, John. Let's set up camp."

John turned to start walking in front of Arthur. What happened next lasted less than a second. Arthur saw something galloping towards them and pushed John forward. Arthur only registered a giant creature and huge teeth ready to grab John. There was nothing to think about. "FUCK! BE CAREFUL JOHN!"

John barely had time to record what had happened and fell forward. As he turned, Arthur was no longer there. He just heard the older man's screams coming from the bottom of the forest, as if he were being dragged further and further into the darkness. Arthur... had pushed him to save him from something. But what?

“A… Arthur? ARTHUR!?”


	2. Can’t Lose You

John looked around frantically, his heart pounding madly in his chest. The trees swayed to sing a sinister melody, and the dark forest was bathed in the light of the full moon that shone proudly in the sky.

"Arthur! S... Shit!" Despair had overtaken John's voice and he could barely have the strength to scream. "A... Arthur! Damn, WHERE ARE YOU??"

He could hear Arthur's screams cutting the forest air. It made him even more desperate. Darkness swallowed up any beam of light that dared to enter through the cracks between the leaves of the huge trees that surrounded the place. John was trembling with the pistol in his hand, and his despair was so big that he had completely forgotten about the rifle Arthur had dropped on impact, or he just hadn't seen it. Whatever the options, John knew he had no chance of defeating a bear with only a pistol in his hand, but he was sure of only one thing: he would face that thing with only nails and teeth, if that meant saving Arthur.

"Arthur!"

John didn't know which way to run. The forest was terribly dark and his heart was beating in his ears. "A… Arthur!" He could feel his throat ache and dry up with every strangled scream he tried to give. Arthur couldn't have disappeared that way. _Fuck, where is he? I need to find him! God help me!_

That was when a sharp cry came from deep in the forest. "John!"

"Arthur???" _Thank you, Lord!_ "A... Arthur! Here!" He runs as fast as his legs can towards Arthur's voice.

“JOHN! RUN!”

"W… What?" He doesn't stop completely, still feeling relieved to hear the man's voice. After a few seconds he sees Arthur running desperately towards him.

“J… JOHN…! RUN! HE IS BEHIND ME! G… GO!!”

John completely stops running when he sees Arthur's despair. His clothes are torn and there is blood, a lot of blood spread on his chest. His face is distorted in horror and he is in a panic, John does not remember seeing Arthur so terrified before. "Arthur! What the hell happened...?!”

Before Arthur can reach John, he is knocked to the ground, and John can see a giant creature grabbing the older man's ankle and pulling him back into the forest. Arthur screams in agony, feeling the flesh of his leg tear through the powerful teeth of the animal that now pulls him hard to the dirt floor. 

“F... FUCK! Let him go! ”John's hand was shaking so badly that he feared hitting Arthur instead of the creature. He held the pistol in both hands and fired the shot, missing the stout body of the strange creature that attacked Arthur. In the height of despair, seeing Arthur being attacked, John launched himself forward, waving his arms, in an attempt to scare the animal away. "Let him go! Get out of here! GET OUT OF HERE!" The beast ignored John completely, focusing on the bloody body in front of him. And in a quick movement, the creature sinks its giant teeth into Arthur's shoulder, pulling out a howl of agonizing pain from the man."NO! LEAVE HIM NOW!!”

Pulling the pistol again, John aims at the crossbow, shooting after shot, hoping to free Arthur. Which is useful, because between one attack and another the beast changes its focus and looks at John. John froze when the creature rose above Arthur, standing only on two feet. John could not see properly, because of the darkness, and the light of the full moon was the only source of light in the place. But that... thing... was unlike any animal he had ever seen.

The beast had broad shoulders, and long arms that ended in frighteningly long claws. John caught a glimpse of the creature's head, which looked a lot like a big wolf, but was much bigger, and its teeth were incredibly bigger almost as if not fit right into that mouth. The drool ran between the fangs, mixing with blood, soiling the black fur on the creature's chest. He was incredibly tall too, taller than a bear, and looked directly at John. 

John's breath hitched, and for a few seconds he forgot how to breathe. "I... idiot... r... run..." He could hear Arthur's weak moans coming from under the creature. He coughed and choked on his own blood and John feared for Arthur's life. He urgently needed to reach him, but how to get past the beast?

Snarling and drooling, the creature took a step forward, slowly approaching John, seeming to assess his chances, as he realized that the human in front of him was holding a gun. John held the pistol tightly with both hands, trying not to shake, aiming the gun. At least the animal was moving away from Arthur. He needed to make that thing move further away. _Think, John, think._

"You want me, don't you?" The beast snarled in response, showing its long, bloody fangs. "Well, come get me, you piece of shit."

"J... J...John... p... please..." Arthur pleaded, still fearing for the younger man's life. John felt his heart sink. Arthur was terribly hurt, and yet he feared for _life John's_. Not his. John’s. John clenched his jaw tightly. That thing was going to pay.

In a quick turn, John ran through the trees. The creature roared, in complete fury, and chased after the boy. John ran through the trees, pulling as much oxygen out of his lungs. _Take the thing away from Arthur, away from Arthur!_ He turned to fire the pistol, and a few shots hit the crossbow, but he either grazed or John missed. It wasn't working, and he needed to think of something fast, as it would soon be reached. The great trees of the forest delayed the beast that had to deflect to run between them, contrasting with the less and more agile body of John. The creature's heavy footprints echoed through the forest and the roars ruffled the hair on the back of John's neck. He was terrified, but the adrenaline rush kept him running through the trees.

John continues to run at the top of his lungs without realizing that the trees are giving way to a clearing, which opens more and more, giving space for the beginning of a gorge.

He stopped on top of the rocks and looked down, it would be a very big fall and an even bigger damage. The Dakota River passed below, its strong rapids taking everything in its path, and its fragile body would be dragged like a branch if he fell. “Oh, no, no, no, no… Shit!” John looked around, but the path was getting too narrow, with no chance of escaping... it was jumping or going back.

“ _Rrrrrrrrrrr…._ ” A snarl tore John out of his infighting. The beast knew he had nowhere to run, and he was savoring his prey's desperate moment. It was delightful to see the agony welling up from the fragile human… John aimed the pistol again, trembling more than ever, and pulled the trigger. The gun made a hollow noise, but no bullet left the barrel of the pistol. No bullets. _No bullets. No fucking bullets..!_

John watched the beast approach in slow motion. Heart racing, the beast lowered itself on all fours and began to approach slowly, torturing its prey. John crouched down on his knees, looking at the monster in front of him. He would die without doing half what he wanted, and worse, Arthur would probably die too because the beast would return to finish the job. Who knows if he could cling to the creature and throw yourself off the cliff? No, that thing was too big. He wouldn't have the strength to grab it.

The beast rose to its feet again, and John managed to get a better look at his hideous figure. That wasn't a goddamn bear... what the hell was that? The body looked a lot like a human being, but it was covered in hair. He had a strong chest and he could even see a muscular chest behind so much hair. The head was really that of a large wolf, it had a long snout, very large teeth and pointed ears. The arms were large and thick and were in a position of attack.

John closed his eyes. _I can't die, I can't. I can't leave things unfinished, I can't! Not without telling him everything I feel. I love him, my God. I love him so much it even hurts._ He closed his jaw, waiting for the beast to attack, feeling the creature getting closer and closer, he could smell the rotten breath of blood and flesh...

And he expected an attack that never happened. When attacking John a loud whistle caught the attention of both the beast and John. "Hey, you fucking bastard!" When he opened his eyes, John saw Arthur standing a few feet from where they were, with a rifle in his hands. He was propped up against a log and looked like he was going to collapse at any moment. The creature turned its sturdy body towards Arthur, growling and drooling angrily. "Go back to the hole you came from." Arthur braced himself and aimed the rifle, using all the strength that remained in his extremely weakened body. As soon as the beast started to advance he shouted: "JOHN, GET OUT OF THERE!"

The younger man practically threw himself to the side, crawling as far as possible. As soon as he left the creature, the first shot was heard. Arthur's perfect aim had hit the chest of the beast that staggered backwards, Arthur cocked the gun and fired again this time hitting the head. The beast took two steps back and fell off the cliff, landing straight on the Dakota River.

John looked down and soon lost sight of the creature's body, the strong currents dragging it downstream.Then his gaze locked on the one who mattered most: Arthur. The man had dropped to his knee and was struggling to breathe. Dropping the rifle on its side, he fell. John quickly ran to him, and was horrified by the extent of his injuries. 

"Fuck ... FUCK! I have to get you out of here!" John had to think fast. Arthur was not going to make it to the gang camp in that state, he was badly hurt, he had lost a lot of blood."Arthur needs you to get up, I can't carry you, cowboy!" Arthur could easily carry John, but the opposite would not happen. John's structure was noticeably weaker and Arthur was a robust, muscular man. "Sorry, Arthur, come on, I'll help you." Arthur groaned when John grabbed his arms and forced him up. John didn't want to torture him like that, but he needed to get to the little camp at least.

"Ugh, fuck you, John!" Arthur groaned in pain. His entire body burned with each touch of the younger man. "It… it h… hurts so fu… fucking much..."

"I need to take care of these wounds, Arthur, or you could die..." John was still terrified, Arthur still had a great risk of dying… he needed medicine, ointment, bandage... where was he going to find everything?

"Th… That was… ah… v… ve… very exciting, John..." Arthur took a few steps and fell. The adrenaline rush was over and the pain and injuries had hit him like a stone. He was too weak and wasn't going to last long without proper care.

"Arthur, please, you need to walk a little more..." John pleaded. What he wouldn't give to be in Arthur's place. To feel his pain, to go through this. For him... he couldn't bear to see Arthur suffers. _It should be me!_

"I... can’t..." On that Arthur fell again. John had his clothes completely bloodied, so much was the blood that Arthur was losing. And he was losing Arthur.

"No, no, no! Arthur! Stay awake, please listen to me, we'll make it! Listen to me, Morgan, don't you dare abandon me! Somebody help me!" John didn't care who listened, his despair was so great that his brain had turned on automatically. He just needed help. "SOMEONE HELP ME! Talk to me, Morgan! Come on, you can do it, cowboy!" With each passing minute, Arthur moved further and further away from John's voice, making the man younger, to consume himself in despair.

* * *

Not far from there, two gypsies were passing by from Valentine. "Did you hear anything, brother?"

The man looked at his sister, and then at the surroundings, trying to identify some noise. "No. Are you hearing things, Kezia? Are old Timbo's stories coming to you?" The young gypsy laughed.

“Do you think I'm a scared little girl, Leander?! And besides... ”

"SOMEBODY HELP ME...!"

"Over there! Come from there! I told you! Someone needs help, brother!”

"Are you an idiot, Kezia?! It could be a trap! And if not, why would we help? People are not kind to us anyway."

"I don't care! What if it's someone who really needs help? Daddy taught us differently, Leander. I'm going to see this, with or without you." Leaping from the pit, the gypsy took the sawn-off shotgun out of its holster ready to defend itself against any pitfalls, if necessary. Leander snorted in discontent, but he picked up the rifle and followed his sister. 

"Take it easy, crazy girl. Let's make sure it's not a trap before!" Leander followed carefully beside his sister, always taking care of the rear.

"Okay. Cover me, pretty boy." Kezia took the lead with her brother right behind. They entered the forest with lamps ready. "Be careful where you step brother, and keep your hand at eye level. The demon walks by there."

"And I don't know? I have our ammo here, little sister." They walked a little further until a man's voice became more audible.

"Please, Arthur, try to get up, please... Don't leave me..." At the sound of footsteps, John wrapped his arms around Arthur protectively. The two strangers approached, dressed in extravagant clothes and looked young. "Thank God! You have to help me! My... my friend was attacked! For s… something! He's... he's badly hurt, please help us!”

“Fuck! He looks really bad!” The girl approached, putting the gun back in its holster. She knelt down next to John, and got a good look at Arthur. "What attacked your friend?"

“I don't know what it was! It looked like a bear! But it wasn't! It was huge, I had never seen anything like it! Arthur managed to kill him, fell off the cliff and... ”

"Did your friend kill the beast?" The boy stepped forward, shocked. "Kezia, the clan needs to know!"

“Please you need to help me! Arthur is going to die, he is badly hurt!”John was terrified, begging for help, not hearing much of the story the boy was telling.

"Was he bitten? I'm sorry for your friend... Come on, sister." Leander turned towards the cart again, putting the rifle on his back. When Kezia called to him:

"We will take them to Mahala." The young gypsy girl looked deeply at John. Tears fought to look in the young man's eyes as he held Arthur tightly to his chest.

"You must be kidding, Kezia."

 _"_ They killed the creature, Leander."

"Kezia, he was bitten..."

The young woman continued to look at John, who was desperately hugging Arthur. "They helped everyone by killing the creature. The least we can do is not to let this man die like this. Help me, brother, please." She turned her eyes to Leander, who looked impassive. The man softened, looking at his sister. "Mahala will know what to do, brother."

The young man reluctantly waved. “Okay, let's take him to the wagon.”

* * *

Arthur moaned with the trembling of the cart. His head was in Johnny's lap. The youngest man looked at him worried all the time, using a torn piece of his shirt to wipe the blood off the older man's face. “You'll be fine, cowboy. It will go through more of this.” Arthur was strong, he was going to make it he was sure.

Soon they were arriving in a huddle of dimly lit carts, with faded colors that must once have been vibrant. John could see that there was a guard, but most of the inhabitants there must have been sleeping.

"What's in there, boy?" The guard man was quick to ask.

"We need to see Mahala now, quick, you fool, we have a very injured man." Kezia was quicker to respond by jumping from the cart and heading towards a wagon that still had its lights on. John got off the cart quickly, starting to take Arthur. Leander also came down to help, he was a big man too, and he had enough strength, managing to help lift Arthur.

"What's going on here?" An old woman, in bright red and yellow clothes, appeared at the door of the wagon. She had gray hair and several necklaces and amulets hanging around her neck. Her gaze was hard and she looked directly at John and Arthur. Kezia approached her, made a short bow and whispered in her ear for a few moments. The woman's gaze narrowed and John feared he would receive no help. If he were thrown with Arthur in the gutter, Arthur would die. Mahala looked at Kezia, and John could hear the young gypsy woman say 'please'.

The old woman looked at John and Leander and said, "Bring this boy inside."

John's heart eased instantly. They carried Arthur into the woman's wagon. Leander looked annoyed that Mahala agreed to help but says nothing, he seemed to respect the old woman very much. They placed Arthur on a small bed, and Mahala placed a lamp nearby. "Bring me fresh towels, hot water, thread, needle, ointment, herbs and some bands to bandage him... quick girl, please..." Kezia ran out and shouted for someone else to help. Mahala began to rip Arthur's rags and John began to see the extent of his friend's injuries.

John felt sick.

Arthur was covered in cuts by claws, but a large wound on his shoulder was more striking. It was where the creature had sunk its teeth, and the musculature was completely exposed. There were three large claw cuts across his chest that cut through his abdomen and John wondered how Arthur could still be alive. He was soaked in blood and the old woman had carefully begun to wipe the blood off with a towel, while John stayed close to Arthur's head, trying to get encouraging words to his friend.

"Mahala, are you sure? He was bitten. He's infected." Leander whispered to the woman. John clenched his teeth, he was tired of that crying boy.

"And what about it?" John looked at the young gypsy, narrowing his eyes. "Did that thing have a disease?"

"He was the _disease_!" Leander stood up, raising his voice to John. John looked at him in confusion.

"Shut up, boy. Now." The old woman said. "Have you forgotten who should have put an end to the creature?" Leander lowered his head, looking at the floor. “They did us a favor. We will repay.”

John did not understand what they were talking about. But there is no time to ask. Now all that mattered was Arthur's life. Kezia ran into the wagon, followed by another girl. Mahala started to work, cleaning the wounds and sewing Arthur. It took a while, and John didn't leave the man's side, shaking his hand, and stroking his hair.

After Arthur was clean and with the bandages on, Mahala turned to John. "Now just wait. He would have a fever, the wounds were deep, his body will react to the infection. You can stay here for now."

"Thank you. I don't even know how to thank you, thank you." He turned to Kezia. "Thank you, girl. You and your brother were very kind. Thank you.”

The young gypsy smiled taking John's hand. "No need to thank, darlin’. Let's help your friend. He seems important to you."

John looked at Arthur, placing his hand on the man's face, who was now sleeping, looking like he was in less pain, but still shaking a lot. "More than anything or anyone." Kezia shook John's hand, understanding. She and Mahala got out of the wagon, letting Arthur and John rest for a while.

John leaned over Arthur's bed, holding the older man's hand, and gave himself up to a deep, dreamless sleep, not realizing that Arthur was shaking his hand as well.


	3. First Impressions

Arthur felt like he had been chewed and spit. Literally. He opened his eyes slowly, giving himself time to get used to the brightness of the place. His whole body hurt a lot, and he didn't have the courage to move. That was when reality hit him like a bullet in the head. The trip. The beast. JOHN. _Where's John?!_

Arthur tried to move quickly but a sharp pain hit him like knives in his flesh. It hurt like hell, and he let out a hiss of pain.

"If I were you, I wouldn't move much." A female voice reached his ears. Arthur tried to move his head quickly to see the source of the voice, but the movement brought him sharp pain. He heard a sigh. “Relax, boy. Or all the work we have done will have been in vain.”

"W… Where am I...? J… John... John....?!”

"The other boy is on your side. Sleeping. And it looks like he has a heavy sleep, doesn't he?" Arthur smiled slightly in agreement. He turned his head slowly, even though he was in some pain. He needs to see John, needed to see if he was really okay, if he was alive. His eyes landed in a sleeping form right next to his body... he was leaning on the small bed completely wrapped in a peaceful sleep. John held Arthur's hand loosely, and Arthur stroked the back of the younger man's hand with his thumb. He really was there, and he was fine. Relief was the feeling that invaded Arthur's chest. Just relief.

Arthur looked at the woman again. She looked calm, and smoked a cigarette. Her fingers were long and strewn with strange rings, and Arthur thought she could have been very beautiful in her youth. Now she had an empty look and a cruel smile."You...?"

“You can call me Mahala. Your friend there brought you almost dead last night, with the help of two members of my clan. You are lucky to be alive, I thought you would not survive the night.” The old woman stopped to take a long drag on her cigarette. After expelling the smoke, she continued: “Do you remember anything?”

“I… I remember a few things. There was something chasing me and John... I don't remember very well... but I managed to hit that thing, and it fell off the cliff, fell straight into the river...”

Mahala approached Arthur, checking the wound on his shoulder, making the man groan in pain. "You are very lucky. No one who ever faced that creature face to face came out alive to tell the story.” The old gypsy carefully removed the bandage, analyzing the wound for a while. Reaching a pot of ointment that was right next to it, she passed some more of the medicine on top of a clean cloth, applying it over the wound. Arthur squirmed, trying to be as quiet as possible. After finishing, she put the bandage back on. 

Arthur moved his arm slightly, squeezing John's hand, waking him slightly. He shifted, looking scared, his eyes searching for Arthur immediately.

“Arthur! H… How are you, partner? You almost scared me to death!” Still holding Arthur's hand tightly, John looked terrified. His almond-shaped eyes watered, and he really looked like shit, but looking closely, Arthur didn't see any serious injuries that could compromise his health. _Thank God._ John raises his other hand, placing it on the older man's arm.“I thought I lost you! God, Arthur... I thought you were going to die!” The words locked in John's throat.

“Hey, hey... I'm here, Johnny boy. I'm not going anywhere, right? I'll be fine, I just... ouch!” Arthur groaned as he sat down. “I just need to heal. But I'll be fine... We need to get back to the gang...” Arthur put a hand on his shoulder, lightly massaging the place. Surprisingly, it didn't hurt as much as he expected.It hurt a lot, of course, but it was the place where the beast had done the most damage, but... there wasn't that much pain. "They'll soon miss us, and there's a lot of work to be done, you know."

"I'm not too concerned with the gang's work, you must recover first."

“Come on, John. We cannot abuse the hospitality of these people.” Arthur argued. "And I feel better."

Mahala was watching closely the little discussion between the two cowboys. There was something there that she couldn't decipher. Sparks bounced between the two men, but the auras... and the spirits... they connected, _intertwined_ in a way that the gypsy had never seen in all those years. The old woman's trained eyes had seen much. Spirituality was common to her, something from everyday life. Seeing those two men talking, worried for each other, having one risked their lives to save the other... humanity was not as lost as she thought. She left the car silently, without the two men noticing.

* * *

“Kezia.” Mahala greeted the young woman who was standing next to the car. She looked anxious.

“Madam. How are they?" The young Gypsy bowed briefly, and looked at the old woman, shaking hands. "How is the boy who was injured?"

“It is healing quickly. Very quickly. As we imagined.” Mahala looked at her hands, wiping them with a towel. “He has a powerful connection with the boy who accompanies him. I still can't decipher what kind of connection it is, but something unites those two. Something strong.”

The girl bit her lip. "This is not good. Do you think we should... warn them?”

“I don't know if there is much point in doing that now. Time will help to make them understand. But... Mr. Arthur has support. Someone I trust will not abandon him.”

"How... can you know that?" Kezia looked puzzled by the resolution of the clan matriarch. “Are you telling me... that they are a... couple?”

"A couple? Are you telling me that they are homosexuals?” Kezia turned to find her brother coming into the conversation. Kezia rolled her eyes at Leander.

"What does that interest you, boy?" The gypsy said. “It only says about them. And only to them.”

Leander looked at his feet, kicking the ground. “This is not normal, Madam. I just want..."

Kezia felt her face go red. She looked steadily at her brother, answering instead of Mahala. "It is not normal? For whom? For you? What do you understand about the depth of the soul? To share a bond? To love? To feel loved? It doesn't matter to those you love, little brother. Don't talk about what you don't know.”

“Shit, Kezia, why did you look like this? That's just my opinion! You just have to respect it! ”

“Your opinion sucks, Leander. Want a suggestion? Grow up. The world doesn't revolve around you.” Then the sentence ended, the three heard the car door open. His eyes turned to the figures of the two men leaving, John supporting Arthur, who was descending with some difficulty.

"Christ! I'm not dead, John! I can walk!" The younger man supported Arthur, and took care of every step he took, with the greatest zeal.

"I know I know! I'm just making sure! You're hurt... I just want to make sure... ”John didn't seem to know where to put his hands after they left Arthur, he looked at the three gypsies who were standing, looking intently at them. Kezia looked amused at them, with a smile painted on her pretty face. Leander looked at them with some contempt, and John didn't know why that boy disliked them so much. And old Mahala looked at them with a kind of wisdom, one he didn't know if he wanted to know.

John was uncomfortable while he felt Arthur tense. “Hm. I would like to thank. All of you. We would be lost without you. I really appreciate your help.”

Arthur shifted uncomfortably. “Well, I think that was not free. How much do we owe you? I don't have much money with me, but I will be back to pay.”

"Do not worry about this. You, unintentionally, do us a favor too, killing the creature.” Mahala replied. "We are even, for now."

"Yes, about this... what was that...?" John asked. "I've never seen anything... like that."

Kezia and Leander looked at Mahala at the same time, waiting for a response from the matriarch. She looked at the two men, responding naturally: “Something that shouldn't be here anymore. An ancient, dangerous and extremely strong creature.” She looked at Arthur well, and he shifted uncomfortably. "If you want to know more... we can talk..."

"No, thanks for the offer, lady." Arthur was quick to respond. He felt extremely uncomfortable just being there, and his shoulder and leg were itchy now. “We have to go now. Thanks for everything, again.” Leaving the three gypsies more quickly, Arthur set off towards the road.

"Hum thanks. I must... well, I must go too.” John started towards Arthur when a hand grabbed his arm. Kezia came very close to his face.

“John, if you need anything, come to us. If you notice something different with Arthur...” She moved her eyes towards the older man. “Come to me, without fear. Please."

John looked confused. "L… Like what? What are you talking about?"

Arthur turned around to see if John was following him, and he didn't like seeing the young man so close to the beautiful gypsy. Something popped in his mind. He frowned and clenched his fists. "JOHN." The young man turned quickly. “We don't have all day. Come on."

John moved away from Kezia quickly. “I will keep that in mind. Thank you." More than quickly, he headed towards Arthur, who was looking defiantly at the young woman. Kezia felt a chill run down her spine.  Both lost the look Leander was giving John. 

* * *

Animal intelligence was something that always surprised John. Old Boy and Iron Eagle had followed their owners faithfully and grazed around the gypsy camp. Iron was startled by Arthur's arrival and was slow to let his human get close. Something that never happened. John was surprised by the stallion's behavior.

"Wow, boah, take’asy." They had been on the road for some time and Iron Eagle still seemed uneasy about something. Old Boy didn't come very close to his equine companion.

"I think they are agitated... from yesterday." John commented. "They will calm down."

"I don't know... I've never seen him like this." Arthur looked worriedly at the stallion. “He seemed calm before we arrived. Maybe those gypsies did something with us? Or with me, specifically?”

“This is not fair, Arthur. They saved your life. I couldn't have done it without them.” John looked almost saddened by the older man's assumption. As much as there was speculation about the Gypsy people, they were not bad people. They had helped when John needed it most... Kezia mainly, because if it depended on Leander, they would have suffered no forest, and Arthur would have died in his arms.

Arthur narrowed his eyes at John. “Why did you feel what I said so much? Did you like the little gypsy girl? Hmmm? Huh, Johnny?” Arthur had a sly look, something John had never seen before. And another thing... Arthur Morgan had never said these things to him. John went red. Extremely red.

"Of... Of course not! Where did this idea come from? J... Jesus, Arthur...” Arthur noticed that John blushed. He hated it. Why was he red? Arthur didn't realize he was gritting his teeth until his jaw started to hurt. _Damn it._

It was a long drive to the gang's camp at Horseshoe Overlook. Arthur was tense and John was afraid to strike up a conversation with the cowboy. He chose to remain silent, respecting the older man's desire to enjoy the silence.  
  


"Who is it?" They could hear Hosea's voice calling.

Arthur did not answer. John swallowed and responded after a few seconds. "Arthur and John!"

“At last, boys! I was worried!” He watched Arthur pass by, without much explanation, with only a brief nod. "What happened?"  
  
“Just tired... Hosea." John was concerned. He watched Arthur dismount from Iron Eagle and stagger to his tent. He collapsed on the bed, falling asleep soon.

"Arthur, son, I need to talk to you!" Dutch headed for Arthur's tent, excited by some possible plan.

John rolled his eyes, Dutch was always predictable, he was probably going to involve Arthur in another train robbery. John wished Arthur would deny this time.

"I'm tired!" Arthur shouted. John looked at the scene, curious. Some people looked too.

Dutch looked funny at his young protégé. "Come on, son. You are young, and we don't have time for that. We have to earn money. Now, listen to me..."

"I said I'm TIRED..." Arthur spoke a little louder than usual.

Dutch stopped. John went down, took the saddle from the Old Boy and went towards Iron, to prepare him too. But his ear was totally on the conversation between the two older men.

"What?" The older man appeared to be processing Arthur's brute response. It seemed completely strange to him that his son was responding that way, and he might have been misunderstood.

"I said I'm fucking tired!" Arthur's thick voice had come out more like a snarl. The man was spread out on the bed, with an arm thrown over his eyes. He was clenching his fingers nervously, as if he were about to explode.

"Arthur?! What the hell..." Dutch started to speak when John thought it would be time to intervene. He didn't want to see Arthur explode.

"Dutch, he's really tired, and he got hurt... we found a... bear."

"So you guys went as far as you shouldn't." Hosea joined Dutch and John. He kept a serious eye, and looked at Arthur sometimes. "You could have killed yourself!"

 _You can't imagine how close that thing came to killing us._ "I know. But we managed to kill him. Arthur just needs to rest, Dutch."

Dutch looked from John to Arthur. "Okay. But I want him ready tomorrow. We have a lot to do. Rest today, son.” Arthur just grunted. “And you too, John. Rest today." Dutch turned his back and left, taking one last look at Arthur.

"Are you okay, John?" Hosea asked.

"Yeah. Just tired too..." John felt exhausted. He just wants to be able to sleep for a few days straight. Hosea waved, patting the young man on the shoulder and then leaving. John looked at Arthur's sleeping form, which was already snoring on the bed.

He remembered Kezia's words. Would he need to look for her?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I even think so, dear John! (:


	4. Start of Changes

Arthur's mind wandered. His sleep was calm and peaceful, bathed in complete darkness. In the middle of the tranquility, a growl appeared, like thunder in the middle of a calm rain... like a spark in the middle of a clean field...

 _**  
Mine...** _ **_**mine...** my mate… where is he? He's mine... only mine..._**

 **_  
_** Arthur opened his eyes immediately. He looked sleepy around his tent, looking for the source of the voice... it was so close to his head… _It was a dream?_ The voice seemed to be rooted in his mind. No farther than the heart would be from the chest. It was like an echo of the soul.

He sat on the bed, rubbing his eyes. He didn't know how long he had slept, but it was still clear outside, so it mustn't be too late. Good. There was going to be time to do something productive yet. He scanned the table, searching automatically for his hat. “Damn, it must have fallen in the forest when that thing attacked me…. ” He had to go back there. That hat was almost a pet.

His eyes shifted to Mary Linton's portrait. The photo of the woman he loved. He loved? She? Something snarled inside him. Not satisfied.

**_No. No. She is not the right one. Not her..._ **

Arthur looked around. _What the hell?_ His eyes automatically went to Mary again. He felt an overwhelming desire to destroy the frame.

**_Burn it... get rid of it… Burn it!_ **

He narrowed his eyes, looking at the woman in the photo. For a few moments he didn't recognize her.

**_BURN IT!!_ **

“Arthur…?”

Arthur came out of the trance immediately. He looked at Hosea standing at the entrance to the tent looking at him curiously.

“Were you... snarling… ?” Hosea asked slowly, as if he didn't even believe what he was asking.

“Hmm… nooo… ?” Arthur spoke, not looking sure what he was saying. “I was just... mumbling…” He laughed, wanting to escape the situation. “You are hearing things, old man.”

“Riiiiiiight…”Hosea looked both amused and concerned. He couldn't decide which feeling to let on. “Well, it doesn't matter. Listen, Arthur. Are you all right? You looked extremely nervous when Dutch called you earlier.”

Hosea approached Arthur, sitting next to him on the bed. “When you want to talk, son, I'm here. Ready to hear you. You don't have to deal with everything alone.”

Arthur felt almost guilty. “I'm fine. Really... it's like I told you, Hosea. It's all this shit going on... accumulating…” The man sighed, trying to build up strength to speak, Hosea put his hand on his shoulder, like an incentive to speak. “We are dealing with a lot... we all are. And we need more money than ever…”

“You are more than one simple tool for this gang, Arthur. We love you, son. Never forget that.”

“Arthur! You woke up! I hope you're calmer too.” _Dutch._ “I didn't like the way you spoke to me, son.”

**_Bullshit..._ **

Arthur raised his eyebrows. His mind was wandering too much today. “Ahm, sorry, Dutch. Just tired.” For the first time in a long time, Arthur did not want to hear Dutch's speech. He strangely wanted to find John. He NEEDED to find John. He started looking around, without hearing much of what Dutch said. 

“... but of course it would be important for you to go there first, and..." Dutch notices Arthur's lost look. ”Son, are you listening to me?”

“Hm? Yes, yes... of course... if you will excuse me for a minute, I need to find out something... ” He got up from the bed, turning around shortly afterwards, looking a little lost. “Did you see John around?”

“Arthur, I was talking to you!” Dutch looked bored. He was not used to Arthur ignoring him like that. Arthur followed him loyally and his word had always been law to the younger man.

“I really need to go now, Dutch, I'll look for you later, okay? I promise!”

“Arthur! But what...?” He looked at Hosea as Arthur walked away. “What's going on with this boy?”

Hosea shrugged, crossing his arms over his chest. “Leave him, Dutch. I think he's quite grown up, isn't he?”

“I know, but I need his help!”

“You could ask for help from anyone else. Look at Bill there, he's doing nothing! As always! BILL, YOU FOOL! COME HERE!”

Dutch was still looking where Arthur was walking. He shook his head slightly, shifting his focus to Bill, who had been stumbling across the camp.

* * *

John took advantage of the cool forest breeze to relax a little. His body ached, and his head looked like it was going to explode at any moment. He inhaled slowly, absorbing as much fresh air into his lungs. He could stay here for a while. The young man could feel his headache slowly dissipate, as if he were being removed with his hand. _I should do this more often…_

That was when a high-pitched, not-so-welcome voice cut the peace out of his little place.

“John Marston!” He could feel the headache coming back. _Oh, no. She again._

“What is it, Abigail?”

“Where were you?”

John raised his hand to his face, not wanting to argue again. “I told you I was going to hunt with Arthur, and that's what I did.” He was tired. Exhausted actually. Would it be too much to ask for a few moments alone?

“And did it cost you a lot to come to me when you came back?” She put her hands on her hips, looking tired. “I was worried, John.”

“I was doing other things, Abigail! I did not have time!”

“You never have the time! Not for me, not for the boy!” She was screaming already. “When are you going to become a man, John Marston? When are you going to stop being a shitty brat and become a fucking man??” John covered his face with both hands, wanting to get out of the place as quickly as possible.

Neither of them noticed a large man approaching the scene. Arthur sank his boots into the soft earth, and his spurs hit the ground, jingling at the sound of his footsteps. He gritted his teeth as he heard Abigail vent all her frustrations on John, while the younger man just listened, without even defending himself. He could smell a strange smell in the air. It was almost as if he could smell John's distress. _What the hell is wrong with me?_

**_Go to him, get him out of there,_ **

“Can't you do something right once in your life? Can't you act like a grown man once in your goddamn life?!” Arthur fisted tightly until his knuckles went white. He could feel John's anguish, emotional exhaustion…

**_Take him away from everything, AND EVERYONE,_ **

His mind was so racing that he couldn't keep up with his thoughts. That was why that voice was there, right? Because of his turbulent mind... right? 

Arthur used all of his self control and approached Abigail and John. “Hey, you two. The whole camp can hear.” Lie. “What is happening? Can't you have peace in the same place as you?” Arthur looked at the woman. “Is everything okay, Abigail?”

“No, it's not all right, Arthur…” She replied, tired. Her eyes had bags underneath. “This tough head... he doesn't understand, he just doesn't understand!”

“And what do I not understand, woman? What do you want from me? WHAT?” John was about to explode, and Arthur could see that. A fierce vein throbbed on his forehead, his hands were fisted and he tried his best to control his wheezing.

“That I love you, John Marston! I love you and I'm trying my best to improve you! So that you can become a decent man, a family man, you idiot!” She advanced on John and looked like she was going to slap him at any moment. A dangerous, protective growl echoed through Arthur's mind. Unconsciously, he jumped forward, placing himself between John and Abigail.

**_DO NOT TOUCH HIM,_ **

He came face to face with Abigail, protecting John from the angry woman. John raised his eyebrows. Abigail looked confused. “What...? Arthur? Want to get out of the way? I'm trying to talk to John!”

Arthur didn't know why he did this. “Hm... you're upset, darlin '. You will end up doing things... and saying things that you would not like, and you will regret it later. Calm down, then you talk.”

Abigail looks at him seriously. If anyone else were to tell you that, she would probably tell that person to get screwed. But she respected and admired Arthur, he always gave her good advice. “Okay, I… I'm going to do this. But for you, Arthur. Because you asked me. ” She stood on tiptoe to look at John. “Don't think that I will forget about our conversation. Be a man and come and talk to me.” Saying that, she turned and headed for the camp.

Arthur stared at the woman until he lost sight of her and turned slowly to look at John. Seeing the younger man, he let out a sigh of relief that he didn't even know he was holding. “Are you... alright?”

John looked at Arthur, giving a half smile. “Yeh. Just the usual.” He scratched his nose. “How's your shoulder?”

Arthur had almost forgotten about his injured shoulder.

“Okay... I hardly feel it anymore.”

“Oh really? A wound of that extent? It was quite a rip Arthur.” John looked at him worriedly, holding his hand as if he wanted to touch the other's shoulder.

John's worried look was melting Arthur. He could almost feel his mind purring, delighting in the attention the young man was giving him.

"I'll be fine... it's not anything that can kill me, Johnny..." Arthur's voice was low, almost a growl, he was dangerously close to John, making the young man swallow hard. He was nervous about the cowboy's proximity, Arthur never approached him like that.

“I never noticed before, John, but…” Arthur moved a little closer. “You smell good…” John's eyes widened, while Arthur kept his eyes slightly open... looking intently at John, as if he wanted to memorize every mark, every scar on the younger man's face.

“W… what? What are you talking about, Arthur? You always said I stank!” John was making fun of everything, after all, Arthur always made good and bad jokes with him. It could only be a joke. John's gut was twisting and a heat he had never felt before was starting to build up at the end of his belly.

“Do you want to know a secret, Johnny? I was… lying…” John blinked for what seemed like a million times. His hands began to sweat and the words escaped his mouth. Suddenly Arthur took a step back, giving his head a slight shake.

Arthur's mind fluttered when he moved away from John. Something inside him asked, clamored to be close to the young man. Arthur never realized the peace he felt at just being close to John Marston... and now... just getting away from him, he was agitated.

“I… have to go back. Dutch has a plan that needs my help.” Arthur forced his legs away from John, walking out of the camp. Turning around again, he says, “If you want to avoid Abigail for a while, well... stay close to me. I can tell her that we are planning a robbery. ” Arthur himself was surprised by these words. What the hell did he have to do with their marital problems?

But he soon forgot that questioning when he saw John's sweet smile. “Thank you, Arthur. Really. I never thought you would be on my side…” John lowered his head and looked at his hands, squeezing his fingers nervously. "Everyone defends Abigail. I'm used to it. Nobody even listens to my side of the story."

Arthur's mind was racing again, seeing John so agonized.

_**LET'S GO TO HIM, COMFORT HIM, HE IS SUFFERING...** _

Arthur swallowed... his legs wanted to go to John, his arms wanted to hug him, his lips wanted to kiss and suck that little mouth... It took all his strength to take a deep breath and walk away from the younger man. What the hell was wrong with him? He had been harboring feelings for John for a long time, to be honest, but they have never been so strong, so instinctive, so _animalistic_.

John watched Arthur vaguely wave and walk away. There was something different about the man, but what?

* * *

Two days passed without many complications. Arthur had not approached John again, and the young almost was sorry for that. He didn't like it when the older man walked away from him. It looked like he had done something wrong ... but he didn't understand what.

Night had arrived at the camp and everything was in perfect harmony. The men were gathered around the fire, telling stories that were probably a lie, mostly. Abigail and Jack had retired to their tent, and now they were sleeping soundly, and John was relieved by that.

Abigail had not looked for him either, seeming to avoid him those days. He had promised himself that he would work things out with her soon, she did not deserve his neglect, and he understood her anger and frustration. Hosea, Dutch and Molly had also retired to their respective tents. Pearson was in the cart packing supplies, Swanson was drunk lying on a rock and Strauss was nowhere to be seen. Not that it mattered much.

Karen, Tilly and Mary–Beth were sitting around the table, gossiping happily, taking advantage of Miss Grimshaw's absence, who because she felt especially tired today, was also asleep. Girls rarely took a break from the grumpy woman, so when they did, it was best to enjoy it. John understood them, it was difficult for them to have Susan on their feet all day.

"Stop telling lies, Micah!" Howled Bill with the bottle of bourbon in his hand. "Do you want us to believe that you fucked two prostitutes at the same time?" He laughed, shaking the bottle and spilling some of its contents on the floor.

"You can laugh all you want, Williamson." Growled Micah Bell from the other side of the fire. "But it is quite true." He opened his arms with a brief bow, as if he wanted to point out what he was saying. "Do you think I can't handle it?"

"Come on, Bell, any two-dollar whore with half a neuron would pay to not have to sleep with you!" Arthur spoke calmly while smoking a cigarette, leaning against the tree trunk lying on the ground. All they burst into laughter. Bill was even crying with laughter. John started to laugh louder too, placing his hand on his belly to hold his ribs, which were starting to hurt. He realized, out of the corner of his eye, that Arthur was watching him as he laughed.  
  
"Oh, very funny isn't it, Scarface?" Unfortunately for John, Micah was sitting right next to him. "But who are you to laugh at something? I bet you can't open a woman's legs without paying, right? So you had to assume one that fucked all the men in the camp before it came to you." He had a cruel gleam in his eye, and John knew that Micah wanted to see him nervous, but he wasn't going to give that pleasure.  
  
Lenny rolled his eyes. "We were just kidding, leave John alone, Micah."

"Nobody spoke to you, darkie." Micah spat, not even looking at Lenny. His eyes were fixed on John.

"Shut up, idiot. Everything was fine, until you decided to be offended. You can always fuck with everything." John said looking at Micah. He went to get up but Micah Bell grabbed his wrist tightly, making him sit down again. Everyone else in the room stiffened. Arthur got up immediately.

"Let go of him, you bastard." Arthur spoke too low, too dangerously. The hair on the back of John's neck stood on end. Arthur's fists were closed and he appeared to be in an attack position.

"Will you want to defend your little brother, Morgan? He's so useless that he can't even talk to himself?" Micah was a despicable little man. But that was stupid and dangerous, even for him.

"Calm down, you two, that was just a joke." Charles, always peaceful, tried to assuage his spirits. It didn't seem to work very well, Arthur's eyes were on Micah's hand, which held John's wrist tightly. Arthur saw red when Micah punched John, right on top of his injuries.

_**kill him, kill him, KILL HIM!** _

"I sent you ... to release him!" Arthur flew forward, jumping on top of Micah. In quick reflex, the blond hemem released John ready to defend himself from Arthur. But Arthur was a big man. Very big. His sculpted body of muscles knocked Micah off the floor, delivering a number of punches to the face of the man who was now trapped on the floor.

"Don't.Touch.Him.Again!" Arthur emphasized each word with a punch. Bill and Charles jumped on him, and it took the strength of the two men to pull an angry Arthur off Micah.

John looked at the scene in shock as he held his face, his bruise was bleeding but he didn't even feel the throbbing pain. He watched the fury unfolding in Arthur, how angry he looked, like an unrestrained animal. Almost like a _beast_. Arthur struggled as Charles and Bill pulled him off Micah, his teeth were clenched and his hair flew in all directions. Her beautiful face, once so sweet, was twisted with hate. John doesn't remember seeing Arthur so out of control.

"WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?" Everyone turned to the voice of Hosea who was now standing by the fire. He looked at John, who was holding his bloody cheek. "Fuck, what happened?" He knelt next to the youngest son and his eyes flew to Arthur and Micah, who was lying on the floor, holding a possible broken nose.

"Micah hit John, and Arthur defended him." Lenny was ready to speak.

"You little shit ...!" Micah started.

"Shut up!" Hosea interrupted. "Micah go wash up, you're covered in blood, you idiot." Micah got up grumbling, giving John a sharp look. He pushed Lenny aside as he passed, and disappeared into the forest. "There's nothing else to see here! Go to sleep! All of you! Tomorrow we have work to do!"

There were a few grumblings, but they all decided to obey the older man. Hosea was still crouched down next to John, looking at the open wound on his face. "Damn, it was healing so well..."

John hissed in pain when Hosea ran his hand over the wound. He could see Arthur beginning to approach, cautiously, as if he was afraid to startle John. 

"I think you can go to bed too, Arthur." Said Hosea without looking at the bigger man. "I think you've already helped a lot,"

"He deserved..."

"I don't doubt that. But you have more self-control than that, son." That was true. Arthur felt ashamed. But, his blood boiled when that miserable bastard dared to hit John. **His** John. 

Wait...

Arthur swallowed hard when something inside purred. "I... I'm going to my tent... I... good night, Hosea... and... John."

John and Hosea looked at each other for a while, until the older man sighed and said, "I'm going to get a bandage. Don't get into a fight until I get back." John snorted.

He watched Arthur go towards the tent. He looked nervous, but ... that was normal, right? Arthur always acted weird... almost.

He saw the big man sit on the bed and scratch his shoulder brutally. He needed to see that wound. It was too big a wound to heal so quickly. Arthur lived with his shoulder covered, leaving no one to examine his injuries.   
  
His heart sent him to visit a certain gypsy. He didn't know why, but he was sure that Kezia had some answers. Tomorrow he would travel to the Gypsy camp, hoping to find out what was happening to the peaceful blue-eyed cowboy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Arthur begins to awaken his aggressive side. I was trying to punch Micah, so I had to do this. (:


	5. Disquieting

John woke up early that morning. Even before the sun came up, he was already up, packing his things to go to the gypsy camp, north of Valentine. He was a little nervous, he had to admit. From a very young age, he listened to the legends and superstitions that surrounded him with those unusual people with whom he had made a certain friendship ... but they helped Arthur so much that he did not dare think badly of them, nor of the grumpy Leander, who opposed to cure Arthur. If they were so bad they wouldn't have helped, right? He remembered the wise eyes of old Mahala, and her wrinkled but very agile hands, while sewing Arthur's wounds. Kezia's sweet, gentle eyes, genuine concern in her eyes, as she spoke to John. The young man saw no desire there, as Arthur had said that day, a little jealously. Just distress and worry.

Arthur's behavior from the night before had really worried John, and he wasn't going to let it go. He did not know how long the gypsies were going to stay in that location, since they were a nomadic people, so the sooner you solve this, the better. He took the Old Boy's saddle to the horse and lightly caressed his faithful friend's neck. "Let's go for a walk... okay?" Great, he was talking to the horse. And worse: waiting for an answer. Old Boy pushed him with his big head, as if he was getting his attention. John smiled at the horse. Animals were fantastic beings, humans certainly did not deserve them. "Let's go before the others wake up and start asking a lot of questions." He wanted to avoid confrontations. Especially Abigail. They hadn't talked yet, but he could feel the tension in the air when he was close to her.

He finished packing things in the saddlebags and quickly went looking for something to eat in Pearson's wagon. Picking up a can of peaches, he crossed the camp as quietly as possible. John mounted the horse taking one last look at Arthur's stall: it was closed, with the cowboy probably still asleep. He wanted to tell Arthur where he was going, as he had the slightest feeling that the older man would be concerned. But then there would be questions and more questions, and maybe Arthur wanted to go with him... and he would like to be able to talk to Kezia alone. Perhaps the gypsy would tell more if he was alone.

Keeping that in mind, he went on his way. He took advantage of this moment alone to also put his thoughts in order, after all privacy was something extremely rare in the camp. He had a lot to deal with, including his situation with Abigail. This was something that was wearing him out too much, and he used up all his strength. Little Jack's paternity was something that was imposed on him, and he was always denied the right of defense. John has always denied being the boy's father, but no one has ever granted him the benefit of the doubt.

The sunrise left the Heartlands landscapes completely fascinating. John felt a pleasant peace as he walked the road alone. The green landscape of the mountains and trees was something unique and John felt a lightness that he had not felt in years. He passed Valentine without much trouble, since the city was just waking up. He greeted some people on their way to work and headed north.

The weather was pleasant, and John could already see the colorful carts and the Gypsy flags hanging. There were a few guards at the entrance to the camp, and John vaguely remembered them. He feared being harassed, but the need to talk to Kezia about Arthur was greater. He decided to take a chance.

"Hey! Stop! Who's there?" The guard tensed and John noticed that he had a shotgun in his hands. It was better to do things right, so John stopped at a safe distance, so that the man didn't feel threatened.

"I ... I'm John Marston. I was here a few days ago. I'm looking for Kezia."

"Turn around, boy. This place is not for people like you." The man did not relax his posture and John stiffened. It would not be so easy to enter gypsy territory.

"Listen, partner, Kezia said I could look for her if I needed to. And it turns out I need to talk to her. A lot."

"Get out of here, _gorger_. You only cause trouble when you step here. So get out of here before I blow your shit out of your mind...!" John began to lightly holster his hand to defend himself against anything, since the man had started to get aggressive. But a rough, thick voice cut him off and shut the guard up.

"Keep your shit to yourself, Merkel! I told you that if anyone came here, it was to warn me!" _Oh no. It was Leander. Now I won't be able to talk to Kezia in any way._ John's shoulders dropped automatically. From the first day, Kezia's brother had been against giving help to the two cowboys ... he would never let John even speak to his sister.

John realized that Leander had dismissed the guard and was approaching him. He was tall, with brown hair that looked long, tied in a red bandanna adorned with chains. He had a strong body and muscular arms, a physique from whom he had a hard life, fighting for survival on a daily basis. In his strong chest he carried a chain with a strange symbol, which John had never seen before, something that must have had to do with his culture, or his beliefs, but John would certainly never ask him.

"Hey... John...? Is that it...no? Who are you looking for, boy...? Mahala? I'm sorry but she's not here." The soft voice that came from the man confused John. He expected to be immediately expelled or threatened. But Leander ended up slowly approaching the Old Boy and caressing his wide neck, in a loving gesture with the animal.

John met the gypsy's eyes, swallowing hard. He didn't know why, but Leander made him uncomfortable. "I'm actually looking for Kezia. She told me that she could talk to me if I needed to..."

Leander smiled, exposing some gold teeth. "My sister is not here either. She is accompanying our matriarch, actually. Would you like to wait for them? In fact, I want to talk to you." John felt a chill run down his spine. His stomach churned like a spring, and suddenly he was nervous. Perhaps it was not a good idea.

"Actually, I better come back another time, I don't want to disturb you..." Before John could turn his horse out of there, Leander grabbed the Old Boy's net. John tightened his grip on the leather, not wanting to sound rough, but if he had to, he would. Ah, he would. "Excuse me. I said I came back another time." His eyes looked at the young gypsy like hot steel. John had unstable nerves, and he was known for that.

"I just want to talk to you, John." The way Leander spoke his name, made his stomach knot. "So the time will pass more quickly and you will be able to meet with my sister. Come."

Seeing that John was still tense, he added, "Don't make me beg ..." Smiling even more, Leander conveyed a strange kind of sympathy. John sighed deeply, looking around. He was surrounded by the unknown camp. Descending from the Old Boy, he let himself be taken into the gypsy territory, following Leander, who sported a predatory smile.

* * *

Arthur woke up drooling on the pillow. He had slept like a goddamn rock during the night, and he didn't even remember if he had dreamed or had a nightmare. His dirty blond hair was disheveled, wild, pointing in several different directions. "Fucking a good night's sleep." He was in a great mood, and sat on the bed, stretching for a long time, cracking his bones loudly.

He washed his face and arranged his hair a little, giving a normal look to his disheveled appearance. _Great, now... good coffee?_

**_...John...?_ **

_John..._ He felt he had to look for John first. His mind purred in approval. Damn, he had to find out what was wrong with him. It was almost as if he had a visitor living inside his head ... a visitor who had always been there, but only now had he taken enough power to show himself. A hidden part of your mind, who knows? Something primordial, dormant for years, that now he had discovered some reason to wake up?

Well, he could think about it later. Now his priority was to find John and see if he was okay. He automatically went to little table, next to the bed to pick up his hat, only to not find it in the expected place. "Holy shit ... I forgot that I lost it ... I need to go back to that damn forest." Okay, okay. He would go back there, no problem. It wouldn't ruin his mood today. Finding John was sure to cheer him up. _Damn, since when did that bring me joy? There's really something wrong with me..._

Arthur tried not to think about it much more as he headed for John's tent. It remained closed, indicating that the young man was still lying down. Lazy. But despite that, something was not right. He could almost feel it in the air. "Come on, Johnny Boy. Too much work to do today! I'm not going to make this camp go by myself while you sleep all day!" No reply. He was expecting a harsh, sleepy response from inside the tent. Arthur could feel his guts at work. "John, stop being lazy and get ou..." He opened the tent flap with a force so disproportionate that it almost pulled it off the ground. His eyes flew straight to the pasture, where Old Boy was always loose. Nothing. The strange visitor growled dissatisfied in his mind, making a deafening echo, preventing him from thinking clearly.

"Arthur? Are you looking for John?" Sadie was standing by the fire with a cup of coffee in her hands. "I was getting up when I saw him go on horseback. He left really early, before everyone even woke up." She said quietly, not noticing Arthur's locked jaw. "He seemed to have quite a hurry..."

"Oh, really? Well, Mrs. Adler, I wonder where that idiot went. Always running away from work, I say..." That brought a smile out of Sadie. But inside Arthur was boiling. Their insides twisted as if they had swallowed fire. "You didn't see which way that useless one went, see... Mrs. Adler?"

Sadie felt a strange unease when she looked at Arthur. He looked the same as always, but his eyes watched her every move, and his hands twitched nervously. It was not a natural behavior of the older man. He was biting his lower lip too, and she could see that he had already drawn blood.

"I think... he went towards Valentine. But I can't guarantee. Just, he took the road we all took to get to the city." Sadie took the cup to her mouth, taking a large sip of cold coffee. She felt trapped by Arthur's cold gaze. He looked very peaceful now, actually.

A satisfied smile graces Arthur's lips. "Thank you, Sadie. John has a special gift for getting in trouble. I better look for him, don't you think?" Arthur opened a toothy smile at the woman in front of him. The strange visitor in his mind agreed.

_**  
Yes, we need to find him. We could never forgive ourselves if something happened to him.** _

Both Arthur and the visitor shuddered at the thought. John was used to going out alone to do some work for Dutch: robberies, murders, muggings... whatever the gang’ leader had for him. But Arthur has never felt so protective before. He didn't just have to protect John. He NEEDED to protect John. It was as if he couldn't do anything without first knowing that John was fine... was _safe_.

"Well... if you say so. I think John can take care of himself, but you're right... he really knows how to get himself into trouble." Sadie lets out a choked laugh, as if holding the air. She desperately tries to look away from Arthur. "But you're going to have to track him, Mr. Morgan."

"Yeah, yeah. Charles taught me some pretty useful things. I'll be able to do that. See you later, Mrs. Adler." He didn't wait for Sadie to respond. Arthur marched to his tent, picking up the rifle, and supplies he would need for the short trip ahead. He ran his hand through his hair, smoothing the most rebellious tufts. _I will pass that forest on the way back. I need my hat urgently._

He was just finishing everything when a voice that he really hated called for him. "Cowpoke!" _Damn it. Damn it. Damn it._ "Aren't you going to apologize to me for yesterday?" Micah approached Arthur chewing some kind of grass. His smell was sour and it bothered Arthur's senses. The bastard literally _stank_.

"If I remember correctly, I took your miserable ass out of prison at Strawberry. In fact, I already regretted it." Arthur didn't even bother to look at Micah. Only the sight of the man makes his mind dazed. His newly discovered visitor hated the dirty bastard.

_**He touched John. He dared to hurt him. There is no forgiveness...** _

  
Arthur couldn't agree more.

"Come on, Morgan, I was just playing with our dear Johnny. He knows that." Arthur hated the way Micah called John. "It was no big deal, in fact he is feeling so good that he has already jumped out of camp. It even went after a prostitute already.” Arthur froze with the placement. Prostitute?

"What the hell, Bell?"

"Yes, I had risen to pee. I heard him talking to that stupid horse. He was going to see such a Karla. Kerla. I don't remember the bitch's name."

So that was where John had gone. Arthur closed his eyes tightly and bit his tongue. He went to look for the beautiful gypsy. The gypsy who had shown interest in him. "Watch your language, bastard. Do you want to lose your teeth? This boy helped us when we needed it. She and her family are our... friends." Lies. But Arthur couldn't let Micah spread gossip. If that kind of shit got to Abigail's ears, surely John would have the woman's hands around his neck.

"Of course, you are very altruistic, aren't you, Morgan? Always helping everyone, especially those who wear skirts." Micah scoffed, laughing out loud.

"Herr Morgan? Herr Morgan...!" Strauss approached the two, meddling in the conversation. "I need your services again. If you can..." He held his damn loan sharking book, carefully marked.

"Not now, Mr. Strauss. I have important things to do." Continuing to pack his things, Arthur tried to give as little attention as possible to the two men who seemed not to want to leave his side. He just needed to get out of there, and find John. What did he want with Kezia?

"Herr Morgan, I must point out that it is very important... Dutch said that and..."

"Look here, Mr. Strauss..." Arthur stopped suddenly, looking down. The man looked over the glasses and Arthur could see him shaking a little. Great. "I'm always doing everything for the gang. You, Dutch and even Micah are witnesses of that. It's only been 4 days since I collected debts for you. Today, NOW, I have something to do and I can't be late, was it clear? If you can wait, great. If you can't, sorry, ask for another one." The blue eyes shone dangerously. Since Leopold Strauss did not answer, just stared at him with his mouth open, Arthur turned on his heels and went back to packing.

"This job requires a real man, doesn't it, Herr Strauss? Come on, you can count on me." Micah spread his arms, approaching Leopold. "Tell me what you need."

Arthur didn't even bother to answer. He loaded what he needed in Iron Eagle and just overheard the pair talking.

"Yes, yes, Herr Bell. It is always Arthur who does this, but I think you will do well. See, I need you to go to Thomas Downes's farm. A really sly little man, you see..."

Arthur shook his head. He couldn't care less about this shit, after all he hated Strauss's loan sharking jobs. Fuck it all.

"Arthur? Can I have a word with you?" Tilly Jackson came towards him timidly. Damn, he just wanted to get out of that fucking camp and run after John. He forced a half smile and looked at the girl. Arthur would never disrespect that girl. She was a good girl.

"Yes, Miss Jackson?"

"I went to your tent, but I didn't find you. That lady, Mary Linton, she sent you a letter." Arthur blinked twice to assimilate Mary's name. "I saw her stalking the camp while you were gone. Strange woman." Tilly frowned. Arthur held back a laugh.

"Thank you, Tilly. I appreciate the message." She smiled and said goodbye. Arthur sighed, running a hand over his face. He ran to the tent, grabbing the perfume letter in a thick, careless gesture. Shoving it in the bag, not worrying about whether or not it would be wrinkled. He was going to read it later. Now, he had more important things to do.

He mounted Iron quickly, and before anyone could call on him again, he disappeared from sight, heading for the gypsy camp.

"Sorry, big boy, but today I'm in a hurry. I'll make it up to you later." The stallion snorted, trotting at the command of the owner.

* * *

John followed Leander into the camp, tying Old Boy to a platform with other horses. There were more people outside the wagons, and they were all watching John with some curiosity.

"Come, we can talk alone, near my tent." Leander turned to smile at John, placing his hand on the shorter man's back.  
  
John tried to get away from the touch, but the further he moved away, the closer the gypsy came, making him feel extremely uncomfortable. And being in unknown territory, John did not want to cause any unnecessary alarms. But it was uncomfortable to be touched like that.

They sat on tree trunks covered with fur, which were next to a large yellow tent, which John presumed to belong to Leander. "Well ... what did you want to talk to me about?" The cowboy was rubbing his hands nervously, looking around, fearing something he didn't know how to do. He wished from the bottom of his heart that Arthur was here.

"I would like to apologize, John." John blinked. What? Leander saw the confusion on the man's face and laughed. "Yes, I would like to apologize to you. I didn't make a good impression..." He leaned across the table, looking into John's eyes. "I would like to reverse that."

John didn't care about the apology, but he didn't like the direction of the conversation. "Well, apologies accepted." He looked away, feeling uncomfortable in the old wooden chair. "You and Kezia helped Arthur that night, that's all I care about."

The gypsy went sour with the name of the oldest cowboy. "Arthur... do you really care about him..."

"More than you can imagine." John was quick to respond, which scared Leander a little.

The gypsy just grunted, as if he was considering something. Studying John for a while. It was almost if he could read the movements that the younger man did. Did Gypsies have any special powers? His deep brown eyes looked at John slowly, and he hated that. He hated being looked at like that. Except when Arthur did. "Well, it's good to get to know you more deeply... John." He moved his chair to sit closer to John.

Okay, that was weird. John sat more on the edge of his own chair, almost falling over. "Is your sister going to be long? I have a lot of work to do and Arthur must be worried, I didn't even say I was leaving."

"I'm sure she'll be here soon. Mahala won't be leaving camp for long...and one more thing... do you only know how to talk about Arthur? Doesn't anyone else call your attention, John? Just... Arthur?” Very direct. But John was unable to assimilate very well what the other was saying. He could almost feel the hot gypsy breath on his face. He noticed that Leander's knee brushed his leg lightly. His entire body tried to react negatively. He was terrified. Ok, he already had enough. John jumped to his feet, standing up. 

Leander also stood up, rising over John, with a crooked smile, covered by his gold teeth. John felt small in front of the big gypsy.

Yeah, he really wanted Arthur to be here.


	6. I've Been Waiting For You

The wind whistled loudly, singing a dark song across the plains of Heartland. Arthur was riding fast, his chest was tight, as if an invisible hand was slowly squeezing his heart. As he rode Iron Eagle, his mind echoed only one name.

_**...John...**_

John's name played in his head like an old, sweet song that stuck to his head. Like the scent of a flower, the taste of sweet fruit, which refused to leave the touch of the lips. It was as if he couldn't exist without John Marston. It almost sounded impossible, but it was what Arthur felt at that moment, and it seemed as true as the air he breathed. He almost felt as if his soul was connected to John's. One heart, in two distinct bodies. Arthur closed his eyes tightly, imagining the younger man. Was he in need of help? Something inside him said yes. Damn it. “John, my heart, I need to find you,” His mind was fully activated, and the strange visitor was happy with Arthur's thoughts about John.

  
**_Accept it, you have no other choice. I don't want anyone else besides him... and I know you don't either,_ **

  
My God, when did those feelings start to overflow like that? Arthur always loved John, always kept in his heart feelings that he tried to deny, hide, _hide, hide_. And now it looked like they were choking him. That if they didn't leave, that if they weren't put out, they would kill him. Like a cancer slowly rotting the throat. They needed to get out, they needed to get to John. They needed to get to his _mate_.   
  
Arthur was distressed, something was not right. He nudged the belly of the strongest stallion, was eager to reach the gypsy territory. He could feel the sweat starting to run down his face and the back of his neck, reaching the neck column. Tension was building in every nerve, every muscle in his body. He didn't like when John left the camp without telling anyone. What if something happened? How would they find him? If that rat hadn't heard John murmur to the Old Boy, Arthur would probably have to track him down, which would take even longer.

Fortunately for the quick trot, he was already on Valentine, and some time would arrive at the camp. As he passed through the city he could smell several different smells. Smells he was not used to smelling... it even hurt his nose. “Holly shit, what the hell is wrong with me?”

Crossing the city and continuing to the north, he passed quickly through the houses without paying much attention to the people around him. He didn't have time to greet anyone now, not with his mind so fast to find John. Without paying much attention to where he was going, and passing with his head down, he does not notice a female figure standing on the balcony of a two-story house. Not until a very familiar voice pulls him from his thoughts.

“Oh, Arthur! Arthur, here!”

He slowed the horse's pace, looking at the woman waving happily at him. He blinked a few times as if his brain was processing that woman's image. 

“Mary? What are you doing here?” He stopped the horse, but did not approach the house where Mary was. She rubbed her hands, as if she were deciding whether or not to go to him.

“Well, I was expecting you. You came here to see me, right? Because of the letter I sent you.” She went down the small stairs to the balcony of the house, approaching Arthur. Each step she took toward him, her mind growled in protest. Something inside him desperately wanted to get away from Mary Linton. “I knew you would come, Arthur. My heart knew.” She rested her hands on her chest with a dreamy look. He looked at her with a confused look, waiting for his heart to start beating madly against the rib cage, like every time he met her. But this time it didn't happen.

_**No, NO! We didn't come because of her! Let's go now. John ... John needs us,** _

“I didn't come for you.” The words left Arthur's mouth so fast that both he and Mary were startled. The words came out more sharply than he intended. “I'm looking for John actually. I haven't read your letter, Mary. I really need to find John. I'm in a hurry. So I don't have time to talk today.” Arthur's mind groaned in satisfaction, feeling confident. He had never spoken to her like that before. And... her smell was strange and it made Arthur's eyes water. It was a sweet scent. Too sweet, too sickening. Arthur had never realized how badly Mary smelled.

Mary's mouth opened and closed. She looks at Arthur, frowning. She did not expect this, not in a million years. “Well... well, I really need your help, Arthur. Really. I really need to talk to you.” She came a little closer, with a pleading look. “It's important, Arthur.”

"Now I can't. Like I said, I'm in a hurry. I..." Iron Eagle began to move restlessly, feeling Arthur's irritation. Mary took a step back, sighing in frustration.

“Could you get off the horse to talk to me?” She was starting to get upset. Arthur pulled an ironic smile. _So typical_. Things had to work as Mary Linton wanted, it has always been and always would be. He didn't know why, but he wasn't very patient today.

Arthur sighed, frustrated. “Look, I have to go. I'll stop by later and maybe we can talk more calmly. How about that?”

“Yes, I prefer to have your full attention, Arthur.” She said dryly. “But I ask you not to delay, what I have to say is very important.”

“Yes, i can imagine. But... for you or for me?” Before she could open her mouth to answer, Arthur decided to say goodbye. "See you later, Mrs. Linton."

“See you late...” Before finishing the sentence, Arthur was gone. Mary stood in front of the house, hand raised, in the middle of her parting sentence, watching Arthur Morgan move further and further away. She felt her heart sink. Arthur was always a man ready to help her, to satisfy her wants, her desires. What had happened to her man?

“I know you still belong to me, Arthur.” Smiling at the departing cowboy's shape, she continues her line of thought. “I will bring you back to me. I promise that.” Feeling resigned to her assumptions, Mary turned to the house, she had to choose a beautiful dress for when Arthur returned.

* * *

John was impatient.

“You know, I really better come back another time. It's clear that Kezia will be taking a while, and I don't want to disturb you.” John was determined to get out of there as soon as possible. The too much attention Leander was giving him was unsettling, and John didn't want it at all.

“Hey, hey, John...” The gypsy tried to grab the young man's wrist in an unsuccessful attempt to keep him still. When he felt this, John pulled his hand away, pulling one of the revolvers out of the holster and aiming directly at Leander.

“Do not touch me.” John's voice was low. He wouldn't let anyone touch him like that. _Well, maybe someone_. But no one who was here. “I didn't give you that right.” Upon seeing an outsider pointing a gun at one of his companions, the gypsy clan began to move around the pair, concerned about John's next move. Leander saw this and tried to calm his friends.

"Go back to your own business. All of you," The gypsy watched a man try to surprise John from behind. "And don't touch _him_." Leandre snarled.

John pulled the other gun aiming the other man behind him, but never letting him look at Leander. “I don't need you to defend me. Now, let me go.” His gaze was hard and cold. But he was afraid. He was surrounded by armed strangers, who could pull the trigger at any time. He would die and no one would know where he was.

“You don't have to be afraid, John. Come on, put the gun down, _kitten_.” Leander smiled.

“I'm not afr...!” _Wait_ , “What..What did you call me?!” John's hand shook on the trigger. _How dare this bastard?!_

“You smell like fear, John...” The gypsy approaches until he touches his chest on the end of the barrel of John's gun. “You don't have to fear me. I can assure you of that.”

“Get away, you crazy bastard!” Shouted John. He was getting scared. What the hell was this madman thinking?

“JOHN!” A third voice echoes through the camp, drawing the attention of all those present. Riding as if lightning had struck him, Arthur crossed the field at great speed, jumping off the Iron Eagle as soon as he sees John surrounded by the gypsy group. John thought Arthur was going to fall, so fast as he got off the horse.

John automatically lowers his revolvers, almost dropping them, such is his relief when he sees the older man. Arthur... Arthur had come for him. As always. He felt like an idiot to be waiting for Arthur to help him, but he couldn't help it. Seeing the older man, coming towards him, running and panting, John melted. _He's coming for me._  
  
The cowboy didn't seem to care about the guns that were being aimed at him. He just pushed the men in his way, as if they were sandbags. He saw nothing else in front of him, except John. The gypsies had recognized the man who had been infected by the beast a few nights ago, and there seemed to be some kind of fear there. Arthur stopped next to John, grabbing him with his thick arms, pulling him to his chest... and most importantly: away from Leander. A loud, dangerous growl scratched Arthur's throat, making John tremble.

“Stay away from him.” Arthur's voice was dangerously low and made the hair on the back of John's neck stand on end. The younger man could hear Arthur's heartbeat... and they were strangely disproportionate. They were very fast, and they seemed to pump too much blood. John just couldn't explain.

“John has no reason to be afraid while he is in my presence. He knows that.” Leander's voice was calm. John realized that it irritated Arthur even more.

“He is more than welcome to my clan's camp.” Said the gypsy opening his arms. “But not you, Mr. Morgan. You carry the mark of the beast in your blood. You are _cursed_. You are not welcome.”

“What the hell are you talking about, you son of a bitch?”  
  
“Don't you feel any different, _Arthur_?” Leander spoke Arthur's name as if it were an offense. “You damn freak! You will carry the curse of the beast and you will hurt those you love most! Starting with the man in your arms!”

John hugged Arthur tighter. "Arthur, let's go. Let's get out of here!" Arthur's grip tightened around John.

_**We will never hurt him. He is the most precious thing we have... our soul, our heart, our everything...** _

Arthur tried to process Leander's words at the same time as his mind tried to convince him that they would never hurt John. Beast? Curse? He felt his head spin, and squeezed John more and more. _I can't let him go, I don't want to let him go..._

"Arthur..." John looked up, meeting the man's desperate eyes. He could see something that was not there before: a blood-red halo, circling all blue irises. John's senses became alarmed. _Problems_. "Come on, let's get out of here..." He started trying to pull Arthur, but the big man didn't move. He just clung more and more to John, not noticing that his sudden increase in strength was almost crushing the young man in his arms.

"A..Arthur. C...can't breathe..." The arms around him loosened immediately and Arthur looked at him in confusion.

"Fuck, John... I'm sorry, I... just..." Seeing that the older man was going to release him completely, John clung to the front of Arthur's shirt, not caring that they were being watched by a group of curious people.

"Do you understand, Morgan?" Leander's voice reached their ears, and it just pissed John off. "You're just going to hurt him. You can't even control your own strength."

"Can you just shut up?" John barked looking at Leander defiantly. This only increased the gypsy's smug smile.

"You are innocent and... too cute for your own good, _kitten_..." The young gypsy smiled. "Even more when you want to play aggressive, and show your teeth. So cute.” _Miserable shit!_

"What did you call him?" Arthur's voice came out in a low growl. It seemed to sound like anything but human. John looked up, swallowing hard and looking for the cowboy's eyes, which were dangerously aimed at the gypsy in front of him. The red halo around Arthur's beautiful blue-green iris was growing, and the man was snarling, showing the entire row of teeth. John noticed that Arthur's canines were more pointed than a normal human being, and bigger, too. He had to get his friend out of here... and fast.

“Arthur, he wants to piss us off. He wants to test you, please... let's get out of here. _Please, Arthur.”_

Arthur looked down for John's gaze. He was asking them to leave. But Arthur just wanted to jump in Leander's throat and tear him whole... bathe in the blood of that damned gypsy who had addressed John so _intimately_. He didn't have that right, nobody did. Neither Leander, nor Abigail, nor anyone.

  
**_Just us._ **

Pushing Arthur back, John realizes that the older man starts to move, giving in to the younger man's attempts to take him. He begins to drag Arthur out of the camp, under the watchful eye of all the gypsies present at the site. He goes to Old Boy and Iron Eagle and Arthur seems to come out of the momentary trance. "Are we just going to run, Marston?"

"I am not willing to risk our necks because of the comments of this bastard," replies John, already riding his horse. "I came to talk to Kezia, but I ended up running into her stupid brother."

"I wanted to kill him. We've already killed men for much less.”

"We are surrounded. You are smarter than that, Morgan." Arthur grunted, he had to agree with John. It was unwise to try to confront Leander with all those weapons aimed at him.

**_If that shit thinks this is going to be like this, he is very wrong._ **

Arthur smiled in agreement with the beast. Beast? He still didn't know what the hell was wrong with him, but one thing was for sure: the damned gypsy would regret having put his dirty hands on his mate. _Mate_?

**_Yes. Mate._**

* * *

Leander watched the pair disappear over the horizon, sporting a somber look. The transformation had begun, and it was happening quickly.

"Wasn't it better for us to have killed him at once?" Merkel asked, stopping beside him. "It would be easier in the beginning." 

"John wouldn't understand. He needs to hate and fear him first." Answer the gypsy. "From that I can get him out of the beast more easily."

Merkel looked at him confused. "You remember how hard it was with the last one, Leander. I know we had nothing, we had just arrived, but the last one did a lot of damage. These two cowboys did the job for us. And... Mahala is not going to like to know that. You heard what she said about these two. Shouldn't we talk to her first? You know... they can be mates... they can have souls connected... there will be problems and...”

"She won't know. You understand me? Neither Mahala nor my sister will know about it. Am I clear?” Leander warned. "I command the hunt, or did you forget it? So I'm the one who gives the orders. Now, stop bothering me, and go melt the _silver_.” Mekel reluctantly waved and left. Leander watched the horizon. They were going to meet again. Before what both imagined.

"John Marston..." He breathed in, feeling a shiver run down his spine. "It's been a long time since I felt this delicious sensation." Wetting the tip of his lips with his tongue, the gypsy went after Mekel to see if the man was following his orders. 


	7. You've Got My Head Spinning

**Mid 1873**

  
**"They're out there...! You can't go! Please...! Ple... Please...!" Tears and a look of dread distorted the woman's beautiful face. She cried and her sobs echoed through the small hut inhabited by the family, which was now destroyed.**

**The patriarch walked frantically through the room with the rifle in his hands, gathering all the ammunition he could find, without listening to the woman's desperate pleas. "I can't do this. If I do, we will all die.” He looked at his wife and at the package she was carrying. The little baby whimpers, completely drenched in his mother's tears. Looking further down, he finds a pair of frightened, watery eyes, small hands clinging to his mother's skirt.**

**"Daddy, I'm scared."**

**The woman grabbed her son's small head, in an act of protection, holding his small body close to her. She looked at her husband, pleading. "Vano, I... they... we... need you." A roar was heard outside, and screams of dying men terrified the family, making the children cry loudly.**

**The man named Vano got down on his knees, placing a big hand on the back of the small son of only 5 years old. "Listen, my son. You will take my legacy, you will protect your mother and your sister. I am very proud of you." He quickly removed a silver chain with a medallion, set with sapphires. In the middle of the medallion, a Star of David, carved by hand. "This is yours now, my boy. I'm sorry... I'm not going to train you, but it's in your blood, son. You are a Hunter.”**

**The child sniffed, clinging even more to the mother. "D... Daddy... no..."**

**Vano stood up, kissing his beloved wife, to the sound of desperate screams in the background. "I love you, Rosella. You and the children are all I have. It is for you that I will fight. Don't forget: when I go out that door, you run away from the back. The matriarch will be waiting."**

**The woman cried even more. "Vano, don't leave me..." On impulse, he releases his precious family. When he reaches the door, Vano turns around, looking at his son one last time. "Take care of them for me, Leander. You are my great pride, my son. I love you...” Opening the door, the Hunter goes against the Beast, where he awaits him, amid the lifeless bodies of his companions. Embracing his slow and painful death. After all, everyone knew what was going to happen.**

**With a silent cry, it was the last time Leander saw his father. It was the end of his family and the beginning of his obsession.**

* * *

Mahala and Kezia arrived at the Gypsy camp the next day. Leander received the younger sister with a warm hug, and the Matriarch with a respectful bow. "It is good to see that you arrived safely, my sister. How was it in the city?"

The young woman smiled kindly. "I don't like cities, I'm more and more convinced of that. But we found everything we needed. Any news in our absence, brother?"

"Absolutely nothing." Leander smiled. He could see a nervous Mekel approaching behind Kezia. He knew that his friend was not good at keeping secrets, but he trusted him enough to do so. He had to keep it under the rug, at least for now. The werewolf was still not at full strength, which meant more time for the hunter to prepare, and prepare things.

He didn't want Mahala and Kezia to get involved this time. He knew that they would defend Arthur, and prevent him from courting John. The old clan matriarch had already observed the two cowboys, and was suspecting that they shared a strong bond. With lycanthropy underway, the bond would strengthen, and the beast would become absolutely possessive, resulting in a possessive and aggressive Arthur, even if unconsciously. Arthur would be able to hurt even close people, if they were threatening the safety of his mate. He knew that, for years he studied the behavior of werewolves. _After all, if you don't know your enemy, you won't know where it hurts the most._ Leander knew where to get it right. _Hit fast and hit hard, and it will fall._

The difference now is that he wouldn't want to hurt John. But, it seemed, Arthur and John were not a couple. Not assumed, at least. It would give him more time.

"How strange, John said he would look for me. I was sure he would do that. He must have so many questions." Kezia spoke. "Arthur must be in the mutation phase. Maybe I should look for him."

"The man is changing, Kezia. There is only one way to end this."

"Not this conversation again, my brother." The girl sighed tiredly. "I thought you understood Mahala's point of view."

"I don't care if he has a soul bond or not. His mate will never be able to control him, you know that. And we don't know if John is really his mate." Leander argued, sulking.

"It was our fault he was bitten, Leander. We should have killed the werewolf weeks ago! We neglected, brother! Admit it!"

The gypsy put his hands on his waist, surrendering to his sister. "I know, okay? It was my responsibility. I made a mistake, and that beast was on the loose too long." He ran his hand over his face. "But we can't let that happen to Arthur. I can kill him first and..."

"You will do nothing with that boy." Leander shivered when he heard the matriarch's hard voice behind him.

Mahala was the oldest gypsy in the clan. She had some trouble getting around and was going blind, her opaque eyes carrying great wisdom. Her gray hair fell down her shoulders, wavy and swaying with the soft look. The imposing figure of the matriarch was highly respected, both by the older and the younger... Leander and Kezia had grown up with the woman as a maternal figure, admiring her deeply. They loved her.

The old woman approached the pair with a cane in her hand. Leander was quick to revere her, but soon tried to answer her: "Madam, listen to me. He will become aggressive, you know that. Even John may be his victim, Arthur will have no control over himself!"

"My decision is made, young man." Mahala's voice was firm and indisputable. "I don't want to repeat myself, was I clear? With a mate, the creature tends to be more peaceful. The mate has a great chance of controlling it." She approached Leander with a hand on his shoulder. "We will not spill more blood than necessary, my son. Try to understand, please...”

Kezia and Leander watched the old woman walk away, and the young gypsy turned around worried to give her older brother. "Why is this obsession with the two cowboys, brother? What's going on with you?"

"It's nothing to be worried about, Kezia." The girl watched her brother walk away too. Leander's strange behavior was associated with Arthur and John, she was sure of that. Since they had found the two, Leander had been obsessed with hunting Arthur. Maybe it was related to failure with the previous werewolf? She couldn't say.

She was concerned that John had not yet appeared. He certainly must have had a lot of questions related to Arthur and the nature of the beast. Where would John be?

* * *

Arthur was feeling extremely nervous. Looking around,he hit the net to make the horses move faster. John was at camp, probably waiting for news. Although it was already a little late, and probably everyone involved in the work of the theft would be asleep.

He had stolen the oil cart as Johm had planned. Damn, thinking this way, Arthur was really proud of John. The young man had planned to steal the train on his own, even planning an easy way to stop the big machine. Arthur's chest swelled with such pride. His boy was an intelligent man, he knew how to do things. This would show Dutch that John was capable of great deeds.

The older cowboy was counting the seconds to arrive at the camp and see John. He knew very well that John was more than capable of taking care of himself. He was a grown man, after all. He didn't need a nanny at his feet. Did he need to see if John was okay, and if Micah had tried something against him again? That rat was a champion in looking for fights, and if John was in his way, he would find a way to tease the young man, somehow. The beast snarled in warning.

_**  
If he touched our mate, we will kill him, without excuse this time** _

Arthur couldn't agree more. He was learning to communicate and to accept the voice that echoed in his mind. It was the voice of your wildest desires and attitudes, and although intimidating, the man could not keep his voice shut, so he was trying to accept it. It was difficult, but he was not able to find another solution. After all, who could he ask for help? Arthur has always been used to solving his problems alone, and this time would be no different.

Hiding the cart amid the trees, as agreed, Arthur tied the horses nearby so they could graze. The animals were extremely nervous around the man, and they did not want to approach at all, almost running away when Arthur came close. Finally, with Iron's help, Arthur managed to tie the two Shires to the trees near the cart, and finally, he could return to the camp and see John.

Iron Eagle and Old Boy were the only horses that were not uncomfortable around Arthur. This was something he had noticed for some time, as the other animals in the gang tended to jump away every time Arthur arrived, even when he was bringing hay to the horses' own meal. Old Boy took a little longer, but by watching John approach Arthur, he started following in his human's footsteps, seeing that he had no problem doing that. The gelding trusted John too much, and so he felt he could trust Arthur too.

It was already dark and he was returning to the camp. He hadn't realized how late it was, and how long that task had lasted. He had done everything extremely calculated, so as not to alarm the guards who were guarding the oil cart, after all, a few shots and the cart full of flammable product would explode. And the last thing he wanted was, of course, to die. And he didn't want to ruin John's plan.

The night was pleasant, and the air brought a pleasant change to the heat of the day. Arriving on the outskirts of Horseshoe Overlook, he smelled the characteristic scent of Bourbon and chewing tobacco from afar. Bill was on guard today, and before the big man even asked who he was, Arthur shouted. "Arthur, here, Bill.”

A surprised voice came out of the bushes. "Fuck, Morgan. How did you know it was me? I didn't even say anything!" Arthur was quiet for a few moments, after all he didn't even know how to answer that question without sounding strange. _Better think of a quick answer. Bill is stupid and won't be thinking too much._

"Can you smell your stink from afar, Williamson. Did you trip over the bear shit today?" Arthur laughed. Hearing Bill's offended growl, Arthur continued. "I saw your stupid hat through the bushes, you asshole." Lie, Arthur had recognized him simply by the sickening smell of drink and tobacco. It was characteristic of Bill, and there was no mistaking it. Arthur just knew. The beast was disgusted by the smell.   
  


_**Eww.** _

"Very funny, Morgan." Arthur passed Bill. _I didn't have time for him._ He arrived at the podiums and took the saddle from his faithful stallion. Iron sniffed his pockets for snacks, and after earning a carrot from its owner, trotted happily to where Old Boy was grazing. Ennis and Silver Dollar were close by, and neighed in recognition of the newcomer. Arthur entered the camp, looking for a very specific face... but he was nowhere.

It was late so most of the gang members were already retired in their tents, resting to be able to have the strength to face the new day. Javier was quietly strumming the guitar by the main fire, while Swanson and Uncle drank on the benches. Dutch and Molly were in the leader's big tent, and seemed to be arguing about something Arthur was not interested in knowing. Probably some other stupid fight, it was happening quite a lot. Molly was complaining too much about Dutch's absence, and Arthur was even noticing that the leader was paying some attention to Mary-Beth, something that had never happened. And it looked like Molly had started to notice that, too.

Charles carved something out of a piece of wood, with a calm that would make anyone jealous. He was a good man, and Arthur admired him deeply for that. More than that: Arthur respected him with his whole being.

  
  
_**Good man. Decent. We respect him.** _

Charles felt watched and raised his head to meet Arthur's eyes. He nodded in acknowledgment to the older man and Arthur waved back. _Charles doesn't have to think to be good, it makes him different.  
  
_ With his thoughts over, Arthur took the path to his tent, just as an excuse not to attract eyes to his true purpose: John Marston's tent. When he saw that no one was paying attention to him, Arthur got out from behind his cart, skirting Dutch's tent, and sneaked into John's closed tent.

It was closed, of course. John always closed the tent when he went to sleep. That pleased Arthur. No one would be watching the young man while he was at his most vulnerable. Except Arthur. But Arthur would never hurt his mate. That was out of the question.

He could hear John's soft snores, so he was sure the young man was asleep. Upon entering the tent, he was enveloped by the heady smell of his pre-destined companion. It drove the beast crazy. John was lying on his narrow bed in only his union suit. He was on his back, with one arm under his head and the other resting on his stomach. His head was slightly tilted, giving a perfect view of his neck. It practically made Arthur drool. _  
_

Arthur approached slowly, afraid to wake the other. He bent down to stand at the same height as John and allowed him to observe the beauty that was sleeping John. He was so beautiful, so vulnerable... The white flesh of the man's neck vibrated slowly with the pulse of the artery, with the life that ran there. Arthur felt an overwhelming desire to lick that piece of skin that gleamed slightly with a layer of sweat.

He was almost mesmerized by the sensations that the young man's body radiated over him. The power John inflicted on Arthur was almost terrifying. "If you knew what you do to me, Johnny..." The voice came out more like a hiss from Arthur's lips. He moved closer, closing his eyes and allowing himself to smell John more closely.

_**Touch him, let me feel his soft skin through your fingers**_...

The beast was begging for it. Arthur felt his penis harden, pressing against the fabric of his jeans.

Vaguely, John moved, and Arthur froze. The young man murmured something in his sleep, further exposing his delicate neck. The hand that was in John's stomach, roamed freely until the groin was the same, touching the hardened cock. John groaned. Erotically. He was dreaming about someone.

Arthur ground his teeth so hard that he was surprised he hadn't broken one. _Who was he dreaming of?_ He watched John bring his hand up to the dressed penis and rub it slowly. It was killing him, it was extremely hot to see John in that state, but he was burning with fury at the thought that his mate was thinking of someone else. _Who was? Abigail? Someone in the gang? Kezia? Leander?_ Both he and the beast burned in jealous when thinking about the gypsy boy. _That bloody gypsy... he had touched John...!_

His thoughts were cut off by another groan from John. The sounds that his boy made were going straight to his penis, which pulsed inside his pants, begging for attention. Arthur couldn't take it anymore, he undid his belt and unzipped his pants, letting his hard, red cock jump freely.

He gripped his cock, stroking it lightly, spreading the precum over his head, watching every move John made. The young man was now gripping his penis more tightly and was biting his lip, making sweat run down the milky flesh of his neck... Arthur accelerated his movements following the drops of sweat that ran down John's chest, imagining his tongue licking them all. The part of John's costume where his penis was was soaked with his precum, showing how excited the young man was, and Arthur knew it wouldn't last much longer, seeing that whole scene. The beast in his head roared, enveloped in lust and jealousy, divided in the joy of seeing his mate in such an excited state, and in fury that he was doing it for someone else.

Arthur's hand picked up speed, he could feel his orgasm approaching, like a spring at the bottom of his stomach. It was getting closer and he knew it was going to be violent. He could only imagine that he was fucking John, that he was the one John wanted, that it was him that John moaned and called to. The more he imagined the faster his hand went, he just wanted to come, just wanted to come, just...  
  
"Fuck, John, I'm going to come..."

But Johm was close too. And when John came, his body snapped in the middle, soaking his union suit. And a name left his lips in the form of a groan... " _Arthur..._ "

Upon hearing his name come out of his mate's mouth, the orgasm ripped Arthur. The beast roared loudly, and his mind clouded for a few seconds. Pleasure hit him like a club in the head, and his seed painted the edge of John's bed. Arthur opened his mouth in a silent scream, and when the air left his lungs he took a few seconds to recover.

Arthur stood for a while for his senses to return to normal. He had never experienced such an intense level of pleasure. But surprisingly, John hadn't woken up, looking like the recent orgasm had lulled him to a deep sleep. Putting his dick in his pants, Arthur hurried to clean his seed from John's bed, using the hem of his own shirt for the task.

Sneaking out of John's tent, Arthur returned to his own tent, making sure there were no curious looks on him. He wanted to preserve John, above all. The beast purred in happiness, completely satisfied with the discovery.  
  


_**He wants us.** _

Arthur smiled at nothing. He did not remember when he had smiled so naturally.

And he couldn't stop smiling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is happening! I am very happy that you are enjoying this story! Please tell me what you think! It's very important to me! Thanks for reading! (:
> 
> AND come on, these boys deserve all the happiness we can give them! ((:
> 
> I'm sorry for the short chapters! I'm trying to write longer ones, but I'm a little slow to write.


	8. Unfavorable Encounters

_"...Arthur?"_

_The melodious and sweet voice of the man he knew filled his ears. Arthur opened his eyes to find himself in the middle of a dimly lit forest. He remembered this forest from somewhere... but his mind was too foggy, and he did not allow him to think much at that moment. For now, all he wanted to do was find the owner of that wonderful voice._

_He stood up slowly, feeling the texture of the dry leaves under his body. His shoulder throbbed painfully, causing a very peculiar discomfort, like a burning sensation. He tried not to pay much attention to that, and to focus on the voice._

_“...Arthur…? Please come to me...” Arthur was completely mesmerized by the familiar voice. He knew who his destined mate belonged to, and his beast purred in satisfaction, wanting to find him. Like a wolf scenting his mate in heat, Arthur followed the voice, walking slowly through the trees, ignoring the throbbing in his shoulder. Wishing... yearning for the smell of his mate... for John's body._

_Hot... hot... it's so hot here…_

_Arthur was sweating. He could feel sweat running down his body, soaking his clothes, if rain was falling. John's scent was getting stronger, more intoxicating, sweeter. He quickened his pace, wanting to get to his destination soon... to his mate. He could feel his shoulder getting hot, the throbbing spreading, like an infection spreading all over his body._

_"Arthur... I need you..." John ... he was right in front of him. He had found him. Standing in the middle of the clearing, his companion was waiting for him. John looked at him, his body glistening with a thin layer of sweat. So beautiful, so perfect. Arthur approached him, wanting nothing more than to embrace John and get lost in that sweet scent._

_He came close, approaching John's back. The young man's dark hair was slung over his shoulders, hiding the pale flesh of his neck. Slowly, Arthur took a hand to his mate's hair, pushing his silky hair away in order to expose his neck. He began to smell the sweet aroma that piece of skin gave off, like an intoxicating drug, which Arthur knew he could never be without again. His cock throbbed in his pants, begging to be left free, begging to let him take what was rightfully his. John moaned softly, arousing the beast even more, leaving Arthur on the verge of an untouched orgasm._

_Arthur brought his mouth close to the delicate neck, lightly brushing the fangs on the exposed flesh._

_...Fangs?_

_He ran his tongue over his teeth, realizing that his canines had grown considerably in size. He was afraid to hurt John. Fear of causing damage to that precious creature, or even scaring him. But, as if reading Arthur's thoughts, John began to speak, taking the older man out of his daze._

_"You won't hurt me, Arthur. Don't be afraid..." Stretching his neck to the side and giving Arthur more access, John continued. "You are changing, darlin’. He is changing you. But keep that in mind: we need each other, or we will both succumb to darkness. I belong to you, Arthur... but you also belong to me. We are parts of each other.”_

_Arthur's heart warmed with the words of his beloved. John turned his head and whispered in sweet words: "Don't give up on me... I need you, Arthur Morgan..." His head started to cloud, and his shoulder was burning. Suddenly, a loud growl is heard, and Arthur feels a shiver run down his spine. Give up on John? Why the hell would he give up on John? Arthur kissed the skin of that delicate neck again, smelling the sweet aroma that his mate emitted._

_"I would never give up on you... I would never let you go... I can't be without you, John, not again..."_

_"But you will, Arthur. You will try to escape from me. And you will hurt me by doing this..." John's voice is low and sad, and it makes Arthur's heart bleed. He wraps his strong arms around the smaller body and hugs him, wanting nothing more than to never let John go. He felt as if his soul was being torn in two, and as well, how if something was missing... and something was really missing. He no longer heard the beast's voice echoing in his mind._

_So fast when he realized it, he heard a loud growl right behind them. Arthur froze, and John didn't seem concerned by the sudden noise. As if he was sure he had nothing to fear._

_Loosening his grip around John, Arthur turned slowly looking up... to face a giant werewolf, standing on two legs. Snarling and staring at the two men in front of him, the beast had eyes as red as two rubies. His fur was dense and light, and it reminded him of his own hair... a dark blond. As threatening as that creature was, it didn't seem to be trying to attack. Arthur swallowed, trying to cover John's body with his own. This angered the beast._

  
  


**_Do you think I'm going to hurt him?_ **

  
  


_The voice. The voice he heard echoing in his own mind. Arthur opened his mouth, as if to say something, but no sound came out. He didn't know what to say._

  
  


**_We would give our lives for him. You and I both know that._ **

  
  


_"We...? What are you talking about? What the hell are you?" That thing had no facial expressions, but Arthur could have sworn the beast was smiling._

  
  


**_Oh, I'm not that different from you. I'm actually nothing different from you. We are flesh of the same body... the pulse of the same heart. I am the unbridled savagery that you cannot show, Arthur... but that is there. That’s always there._ **

  
  


_Arthur has always prided himself on being a calm and peaceful man. He always had everything under control, even when the situation demanded a lot from him. But he realized that he had been exploding too much lately, and every time, John was involved. It was a fury that he couldn't contain... he couldn't explain._

_"I... I don't want to hurt anyone..."_

  
  


**_I don't care who we're going to hurt. Not being our mate, whatever is on the way we can tear it into pieces... I don't give a fuck!_**

  
  
_Arthur shook his head, in complete denial. "No, I'm not like that... you're not me!" The werewolf snarled, taking a step forward._   
  
  
  
  
_**You are a fool if you think you can run away from me. We are one, Arthur Morgan, and you will have to learn to live with me! You are always obeying orders, without question, always doing what you are expected to do. You are weak, boy... Don't make me feel sorry for you.**_

_  
"Are you saying that I am a simple pawn?" Arthur didn't know where he got the courage to face his beast, but he wanted some answers at that moment. For a few seconds Arthur's life flashed through his mind. He had always obeyed Dutch without question. Putting the gang's needs above everything, even himself. It had always been that way, his loyalty to his family was more important than anything. He killed who Dutch told to kill, he stole who Dutch told to steal. The leader knew it was better. He always knew..._

_Right?  
_

**_You always follow him blindly._ **

_”_ _Do... do you read my thoughts?" The cowboy looks at him incredulously._

_  
**I repeat: we are one. Everything you feel I feel. You will learn over time.** _

_"Damn it. The damned gypsy is right. I'm cursed...” The werewolf growls again, and Arthur watches the drool trickle through the powerful creature's teeth. He imagines how easy it would be for those teeth to crush skulls, if he wanted to._

_**Cursed?** _

_The beast opened its mouth, showing even more the row of teeth. Arthur steps back, realizing that John is no longer there._

**_The curse pursues the rebellious children... accept me or die!_ **

_And in a jump, the beast leaps into Arthur's throat._

* * *

Arthur woke up completely drenched in sweat. His face was hot, and his shoulder throbbed painfully. "Fuck, fuck… what the hell was that?" Flashes of his strange dream flooded his mind, but he didn't remember much. Rising from the bed, he noticed something sticky on the sheets... too sticky to be just sweat. It was still dark outside, so he had to light his little lamp that was on the table near the bed.

He was startled when he noticed the dark color of the liquid that soaked his shoulder and part of his arm: blood. The creature's wound had opened, and a reasonable amount of blood now covered its clothes and sheets.

Arthur stood up collecting the bloody clothes. He didn't want to worry about anyone, so he decided that he would wash everything himself, and find a way to hide it from John too. He carefully removed his shirt, looking at the wound on his shoulder. It didn't look bad. In fact, it didn't look bad. "Why is this bleeding so much after all?"

Pouring some water into the small basin where he used to shave, he took a clean cloth and started to wipe the blood. The cut was almost completely healed, giving way to a large and aggressive scar. Looking closely, Arthur could see something unusual: hair was growing. Hairs did not usually grow into scars.

"It was just what I needed..."

He had to hide this. Maybe shave the hair that was growing. No way did he want John to see this, after all, he would only worry the young man. Looking more closer at the wound, he could see that the light hair was growing on the wound as well. This was too bizarre. He was definitely a freak. _A damn freak._

After collecting all the dirty clothes and cleaning his body of all blood, Arthur sat on the bed. It would be dawn soon, but he would not be able to sleep anyway ... he had no idea what to do. His heart was in agony, and he feared to hurt the people he loved so much. His eyes flew to John's tent and stayed there for a while. His mind was strangely still, and his thoughts were confused.

And today he must be prepared, as it was the night of the train heist. John was counting on him. He could not disappoint his friend. Charles would be together, and that would be a big bonus, since the big Indian was perfect for the assault. They would make a great team. Nothing to worry about.  
  
And Arthur had not yet come to visit Mary. He had to work this out too. He had to go to the gunsmith on Valentine, and he could use the trip to see what she wanted to talk to him about.

Packing his things and ignoring the sting throbbing in his wound, Arthur prepared to face the new day. Perhaps today there would be no problems, for a change.

* * *

John's heart floated like a feather in the immensity of the blue-green sea... ‘blue-green’... the same color as the eyes of the most beautiful man he had ever had the pleasure of laying eyes on. Those two blue jewels, which overflowed with joy every time they looked at him. John could focus for hours looking at that beautiful face, telling the freckles that stained his fair skin, the scars that told the story of that man he loved so much. Love... how he loved that man… How he loved that smile, that mouth...He stretched out on the bed, feeling his heart fill with happiness.

As John was waking up, his sensations were waking up with him... and he started to feel a sticky gut feeling in his groin. "Oh shit." Realizing exactly what it was about, John jumped out of bed and quickly pulled off his union suit. Another wet dream. Another dream about Arthur. "This is getting ridiculous. I feel like a 15 year old kid again..."

He couldn't let anyone see this, and he couldn't let the girls wash it, too. It was too shameful. Rolling his clothes into a ball and playing in the corner of the tent, John decided that he would deal with it later, after all today was the big day. He had planned the assault on the train very carefully, and was looking forward to tonight. He wanted to do everything right, so Dutch would see that he was a useful person to the gang. And Arthur would be proud of him... John smiled at the thought. Arthur had praised him for the oil cart idea, and John couldn't have been happier with the older man's words.

Leaving the tent, John found Tilly and Charles drinking coffee around the main fire. He joined his friends in greeting.

" ‘Morning guys..."

"Getting up early, John? It doesn't even look like you lately..." Sadie and her usual good mood. John smiled at the woman.  
  
"Don't get used to it. I need to go to Valentine, get some more stuff for today's theft."

"What time do you plan to leave, John? I would like to be prepared for that." Charles did not take his eyes off the fire while talking to the man. John admired Charles's stoic way at times.

"As soon as night falls. And again, thank you, Charles. I know it seems dangerous to do this just you, Arthur and me but it will be better with fewer people."

"No problem. I prefer it that way too. The fewer people, the more controlled the situation is." Charles reflected.

John agrees. It would really be better that way. And he trusted Charles and Arthur.

"Good morning, Arthur..." Tilly's voice reached John's ears and he froze. He hadn't heard Arthur arrive.

"Hello everyone..." The older man's thick voice was an early treat. John felt his legs wobble, and his cheeks were red. He couldn't look at the man right now.

"Hey, Arthur." Charles's monotone voice greeted.

"H-hi, Arthur." _Damn, why did I stutter?_ John felt his face go purple. Tilly looked at him amused.

"Are you ready for today, Morgan?" Charles turned to his friend, holding the coffee cup.  
  
"Um, yes, of course. I just need to go to Valentine, visit the gunsmith."

"Really? John commented that he needs to go to the city as well." Tilly spoke, completely unaware of John's redness. "Isn't that a great coinscence?"

"Oh, are you going to Valentine, John?" Arthur narrowed his eyes at the young man. He was biting his tongue, crazy to ask what he was going to do. _Was he going to look for the gypsies again?_ "Are you going to visit someone?"

John noticed Arthur's taut jaw and swallowed hard. "N-no. I need to go to the general store. Buy some supplies for tonight."

Arthur's expression softened instantly. "Hm. Okay, then. We can go together, if you want. Just let me get my things and get the Iron’s saddle."

John just nodded. Why did he feel so paralyzed when talking to Arthur? It seems that his throat was closing and no sound came out. He looked like a big idiot.

* * *

Each saddled their respective horse and mounted, ready to leave for Valentine. The sooner they went, the sooner they would return, and that was all John wanted. Arthur seemed too quiet during the short trip to the city, and that was worrying the younger man. It got worse when Arthur seemed to be talking  
alone, muttering to himself.

"It's all right?" John knew he might not get a sincere answer, but he had to try anyway. He still couldn't look straight at his friend's face, but he was genuinely worried about him.

"Yeah..." Arthur sighed. "Listen, John. I need to do something first, when I get to town." He held Iron's net, turning it between his fingers.

"Okay...?"

"I have to go see Mary."  
  
"Mary? Mary Linton?" _That bitch!_ John's blood boiled. "What does she want now?" He couldn't believe it. What did she want now? After all that she had made Arthur suffer?

"I don't know... she wants to talk to me. She sent me a letter." Arthur had read the letter. It didn't have the same effect as before. "I'm going to see what she wants." Arthur spoke almost with ill will.

John's hands were shaking holding Old Boy's networks. "I didn't get into your business, Arthur. I will... I will wait for you while you talk to her..." He felt defeated, but why?

"That's what I would like to talk to you about, John." Arthur looked up, looking for the other's gaze. "You... you can go with me?"

John blinked a few times. _What?_

John was grateful to be seated, as he certainly would have fallen if he had been standing. "I don't think I got it right."

Arthur let out something that looked like a smile. "That's what you heard. I'm a little tired of being Mary's doormat." Arthur scratched his short beard. "I would like you to go with me, you know. I'll understand if you don't want to, if you think it can be embarrassing..."

John was quick to respond. "I'll go with you." _Too fast, idiot._ But he understood. Arthur was tired of everything he had been through with that woman. Tired of being used for the benefits of that family, of being called only when Mary needed something. Arthur was perfect for doing the dirty work.

John hated that. He hated to see the way that petty woman used Arthur. His Arthur. The man was too good for his own good... always thinking about other people, about their well-being.

"Thank you, Johnny. It means a lot to me." Arthur felt his chest warm. John would accompany him after all. John's presence calmed the beast, and made Arthur more serene. He was afraid to scare the young man with the strange request, but deep down he knew that John would understand.

"Well, lead the way then." John asked. Arthur agreed, making Iron trot to the house where Mary was staying.

* * *

They soon arrived at the two-story house on the outskirts of Valentine. Arthur wanted to speak to the ex-bride immediately, and end this story soon, for every thought that involved Mary brought with it a snarl from the beast. And it was getting uncomfortable.

He knocked on the door, and John stood by the stairs, waiting. John would be lying if he said that the situation made him comfortable. He felt strange when participating in a conversation involving Arthur and Mary, but he was happy that Arthur had asked him. After all, he hated to see that woman make the man suffer. Each encounter that Arthur had with Mary was a real martyrdom. And he didn't deserve that.

Finally the door opened, and a gun pointed at Arthur's face, making John jump. An old woman looked at the two men.

"What do you two want?" The old woman looked sulky and wanting a reason to shoot. Arthur raised his hands in surrender.

"I'm looking for Mary Linton, is she there?"

The old woman snorted and closed the door in Arthur's face. He looked at John without understanding much.

"I think she's going to get her..." John suggested.

It really didn't take long for the door to open again and a smiling Mary come out. "Arthur!" She jumped out, throwing her arms around Arthur's neck, almost jumping on his lap. John held back the urge to pull her hair out and throw her away from the man.

Arthur threw his hands back, not touching the woman's body. He had forgotten how sickening her smell was. He was dizzy for a few seconds, and bile went up his throat. He didn't really like this smell.

"Hello, Mary. Do you remember John Marston?" Mary looked at John, not having noticed that he was there. "He came with me, we are doing some business in the city today."

"Oh, Mr. Marston." She looked at him quickly. "How are you?"

"I'm fine, ma'am." John couldn't even look at her. Disgust. That was the word.

Mary looked uncomfortably at John. "Arthur, I need to speak to you in private... can we...?"

"Whatever you want to say to me, can be said in his presence. I don't care." Mary looked at Arthur as if she was not recognizing the man in front of her.

"Arthur... I prefer it to be just us." She said firmly, taking the man's arm. John started to feel uncomfortable, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

Arthur could feel John's agitation. It was in his smell, in the air. The beast was restless, wanting to go to him and calm him down. He shook his head quickly, dismissing those thoughts, and took a step back. Away from Mary's hand. "He stays. End of conversation. What do you need this time, Mary?"

"Okay." She finally gave up, sighing. "Okay. Well, Arthur, how... how are you? I've been worried about you."

He looked at her, frowning.

_**This is a joke, isn't it...** _

"Best impossible, Mrs. Linton. Why do you ask?" John held back a laugh. Maybe it could even be fun.

"It's my family, Arthur... I... need help."

"Do you talk about the family that always hated me?" The bitterness in Arthur's voice was noticeable. John was quiet. "Why don't you ask your husband to do this?"

"He is dead." She spoke sadly. "Pneumonia." Arthur's face softened a little.

"My condolences, Mary." He turned his face away. "This can be quite difficult."

"Thanks." She smiled. "He was a good man. But back to the subject, about my family: it's actually about my little brother, Jamie."

"Jamie? Among all of them, Jamie was always the one I liked the most, I think. The only one in fact." Arthur turned, going over to where John was standing. He sought comfort in the younger man's eyes.

"Oh, Arthur. Jamie is breaking Daddy's heart." Mary groaned, and John wanted to roll his eyes.

Arthur snorted. "Really? And does ‘Daddy’ have a heart, by any chance?"

Mary still thought she could manipulate Arthur as she pleased. This irritated John deeply. Crazy jealousy burned his stomach and made him want to jump on the woman's neck. How could she ask Arthur for that? After all that her family did to his Arthur?

"My money... my life... me... were never enough for you, or for your family. But when it comes to dirty work... I'm good. I'm good, aren't I?" Arthur's words came out full of hurt, and John wanted nothing more than to hug him. "I always tried to show that I could be good, that I could take care of you, Mary. But you have always framed me for the way I live, for the only way I know how to live. These people you call bandits and murderers, they are my family.”

"I... I tried, Arthur. I tried to make you better. I loved you. I love you! I couldn't stay with you, watching you live that life."

"Did you know me from that way, Mary. You knew how things were! I never hid anything from you... and yet you said the most horrible things to me, it made me feel like crap!” Arthur waved his hands nervously. "But now, when I'm useful, do you come to me? Do you say you love me?"

"But I do! I always loved you, Arthur Morgan! With all my strength!" Mary screamed at the top of her lungs. John was fed up with that stupid little show.

"And why the hell did you abandon him? Why did you promise to run away with him, and then leave him, making him suffer like that?" The words flew from John's mouth, and he had no idea why he said that. But what he did know was that he couldn't see Mary continue to deceive Arthur like that.

Both Arthur and Mary look shocked at John. The woman steps back defensively, looking offended at John.  
"I don't see this as one of your business, Mr. Marston!" Looking at Arthur she places a hand on his shoulder. "Arthur, I want to speak to you privately. Now."

John goes up the small porch staircase, now angrier than ever. "Get your hands off him!" He doesn't even care if he's playing the fool, he just wants Arthur away from Mary Linton. "Stop trying to use Arthur for your benefit! He’s not something you can use and discard later! Arthur is not a thing!"

Arthur was completely gaping. He couldn't get any kind of reaction. John was defending him. The man he loved was defending him. His instincts screamed with pleasure, and the beast purred in total joy. He was elated.

Mary looked at John as if she were facing the most horrible man on earth. "H-How dare you talk to me like that? Who do you think you are?" She looked at him with total disgust and contempt. "Arthur, are you going to let him talk to me like that?"

Arthur hardly heard what Mary said. All he wanted to do was grab John and lift him up by wrapping the younger man's legs around his waist, hitting him on the wall of that house and kissing that mouth until John ran out of breath. When had he fallen in love with this man like that?

"I'm tired of seeing Arthur suffer because of you! He deserves to be happy with someone he loves!" John continued. "And that someone is not you!"

"Arthur loves me! He never loved or will love anyone as he loves me!" Mary spoke firmly. "This I guarantee you!"

 _What? Is that what she thinks? That her will always have me in her hands?_ "You know what, Mary? I'm sorry, but I won't be able to help you with Jamie this time." The woman's face fell, and she opened her mouth to speak, but Arthur raised his hand, interrupting her. "And second. I have someone else."

Mary froze and her face went white.

John lost the floor for a few moments. His heart sank so much that it hurt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little bit of anguish. But don't worry, everything will be fine. After all, we know who Arthur is talking about (:


	9. Confused Thoughts

Arthur felt that he could cut the tension in the air with a knife. Mary was white as a ghost and John seemed to have forgotten how to breathe. The older man brought his hand lightly to the base of John's spine, causing him to come out of the trance.

John searched Arthur's eyes. He needed to find some kind of answer there. _You are with someone? Who?_

Mary felt like a stranger in the middle of that connection. She cleared her throat, calling their attention. "Arthur, I..." She tried to speak, but Arthur could see her eyes well up with tears. She still had feelings for him, and he would never doubt that.

"I'm sorry, Mary. I can't help with your brother. I just can't... Not after everything that happened. Your family... never accepted me… and your father, hates me, Mary. He did everything he could to separate us.”

Arthur's look was hurt. He had a number of reasons to feel betrayed by the ex-fiancee's family, and she knew it very well. But as much as she hated to admit it, what was most bothering her at the moment, was knowing that her lover had found comfort in someone else's arms.

"I understand you. I know our life was not easy, and Daddy never made it easy for you. But... are you happy Arthur... with your new love?" She looked fearful as she addressed the older man and did everything she could to ignore John completely. His presence was bothering her, and she wouldn't look at him again.

"He makes me happier than I ever thought I would be." Mary dropped her jaw when she heard the words Arthur said. Disgust quickly crossed the expression on her face, but Arthur completely ignored it. John felt his heart racing, and for a moment it looked like it was going to explode. A wave of nervousness washed over him, and he felt Arthur's eyes on him. _It would be possible?_

"Does... does _h-he_ do?" Mary babbled. "I never expected that of you, Arthur. Do you mean that you are an invert, after all?" John fisted his hands, but Arthur was calm and peaceful. "Are you going to change me for a man, Arthur? Is that so?" Both could clearly see the tears forming in Mary's eyes. She was holding herself back from crying, and she was failing miserably. John was almost sorry for the woman. Almost.

John turned to Arthur, unable to look him in the eye, he was too embarrassed. Red to the ears. Arthur thought it was cute. "Arthur, we better go, before someone says something that regrets it later. Can we go... please?"

"You can't take him away! We haven't finished talking!" Mary passed John, trying to get close to Arthur. "I know what's going on, Arthur. You are confused, hurt. I know I was wrong, but my feelings for you haven't changed, Arthur. And I know you still have feelings for me." She was right to an extent. He still had some feelings for Mary. It wasn't like it used to be, and it wasn't even close to what he felt for John. But... it was something.

She had been part of his past, and he had loved her. Very much. He once thought that she could be his wife, that they could have a future together. But today, that was no longer a possibility.

The beast snarled in disapproval at these thoughts.

  
  


**_She’s not our mate. She’s selfish, and looks for you to do the dirty work. How can you not see? Are you some kind of idiot?_ **

  
  


Arthur rolled his eyes unconsciously. Even the beast called him a stupid when it came to Mary Gillis Linton. _Should it mean something?_

  
  


**_Do you really want me to answer you?_ **

  
  


_No. Thank you._

"Sorry, Mary. Our time has passed, and we didn't know how to enjoy it. I'm in love with someone else, with whom I would do anything. Anything." It hurt deep in Mary's soul. It really hurt like hell. She brought her hand to her chest and squeezed. He never thought he would see Mary like that, so vulnerable. A part of him wanted to hug her and comfort her. But John was there, and he automatically approached him. It was instinctive.

"I... I need to be alone. But I would like to see you again, Arthur. I’ll looking for you again. Goodbye, Arthur… " She gave the ex-fiance a last look, tears in her eyes. Completely ignoring John's presence, Mary entered the house, leaving the two men alone on the porch.

John thanked God that Mary left them alone. _Petty woman._ He looked back at Arthur, who looked a little shaken. "Are you alright?"

The older man blinked a few times, recognizing the voice that spoke to him. "I'll be fine." Looking at John, he smiled. "Don't worry about me, Johnny boy."

"I-I'm not!" John stumbled over the words, looking around. "I just... you know… Well, you've been through a lot with this woman. Who does she think she is to ask for help with her shitty family? Her family has always hated you!"

"Jamie was always nice to me." Arthur considered. "But I couldn't help her again... I just couldn't." He ran a hand through his hair. "After all, my loyalty belongs to who I really care about." 

The look Arthur gave him made John shiver. His legs swayed, and he almost had to hold on to keep from faking. _How could this damn man do that with just one look?_ That thought filled John's head.

"W-Well, shall we? We have to prepare for today's assault..." _Why does my voice keep shaking?_

"I'm right behind you."

* * *

John didn't like Valentine. Dirty city full of rednecks. _Give me the creeps!_ Luckily today was a calm day and they could be out soon without much trouble. Arthur had already obtained the ammunition, and he had already visited the general store, and had obtained supplies.

They returned to the camp in an uncomfortable silence. What John wanted most was to talk to Arthur, ask questions, get some answers out of him. _Who was the person he was talking about? Had he said that just to shut Mary up?_ It was boiling in his head... so much so that it was creating uncomfortable pain. 

"I can see the smoke coming out of your head, John." Arthur laughed. John looked at the older man in surprise, not expecting a reaction.

"Now, shut up, Morgan. I'm just thinking here."

"I know, that's why you're cooking your brains out." John laughed, feeling the air lighten. He enjoyed the time he spent only with Arthur. "I'm going to go where I hid the oil cart, okay? I wait for you and Charles there."

"I thought we were going together."

"I thought I could enjoy a little time alone." Arthur said. "I'm going to go to that damn forest and look for my hat too. I want to do it myself."

John worried. "Don't you want me to go with you?"

"No way." Arthur was ready to say. "I wouldn't risk putting you there again. I'm going alone."

Arthur was taking care of him? John would never tire of it. "Well, if you prefer. I'll be back at camp. We meet at 8 pm, at the agreed location." 

Arthur agrees, pulling Iron away from Old Boy. "See you later, Johnny."

* * *

Arthur did not know how he had found his precious hat in the dirt of the forest. But there he was, under a pile of dry leaves. Dirty and covered in mud, but still whole. He cleaned the hat well, trying to leave it the way it was before. "We've been through a lot, friend. It wouldn't be fair to leave you here, would it?" What a pitiful scene, he was talking to the hat.

Riding fast to the meeting place, Arthur let the wind hit his face. This was good... he needed to do this more often. Relax and ride.

He wished one day that he would no longer have trains to steal or gangs to support. Maybe a house in the woods, with some animals? Horses, cows and chickens? Was it a very distant dream?

He realized he was arriving at the marked spot and heard the sound of gunfire. Shots? Who would be shooting near the oil wagon? Getting closer, he could see a slender, red-haired figure in a stupid green hat. _Sean MacGuire._

The young Irishman was trying to hit a few bottles that were right in front of him. That's right, he was trying. And failing miserably.

"Shit!" He could hear the boy grumble.

“Well, at least it ain’t your job.” Arthur said. It really hurt to see how Sean tried to hit the bottles.

"Ah, shut up, Arthur!"

"Yeah, your job’s starting the fights, it ain't winning them." He laughed.

"Hey, I'm good at fighting, Arthur. I'm just not good at homework."

“I can see.”

"Besides, why do you care, Englishman? You never have time for me! I even got you a job! But it seems that you always prefer John Marston! And Sean here is never remembered!”

"I don't think I want to be shot, that's all." Said Arthur, more attentive now that John's name was in the conversation.

"You’re a fucking funny shit, Arthur Morgan, huh?!” Sean said, already accentuating his accent. “Fucking funny shit.”

“Calm down.”

"Better sleep with your eyes open. You and that little shit Marst..."Arthur didn't even let Sean finish the sentence. That he would not swallow so easily.

"Yeah, you're gonna sleep with your chest open, if you ain't careful, boy." He growled dangerously. He didn't even care for that idiot's senseless threats. But don't threaten John.

Sean swallowed, and tried to smile. "I love ya, Arthur Morgan… i love ya… Come on, give it your best shot!”

Arthur hated demonstrating skills like that, but he was sick of this boring kid on his toes. Drawing the revolver at surprising speed, he hits the bottle in a wink, leaving the Irishman with his mouth open.

"Grow up." Arthur turns his back on Sean, heading towards the cart.

"Arthur, Arthur! Let me go on the robbery with you!"

"Robbery?"

"Don't pretend! The damn train you guys are watching..." Damn it. Did John say anything? Arthur doubted that. 

"The fewer people the better, we don't want to make it a big deal." Said Arthur, starting to put the horses in each other's shoes. The animals looked scared and restless around him, but he had come prepared today and had brought some snacks.

"Don't you want to make a big deal of it? You're going to rob a train! Come on, Morgan!" Arthur had forgotten how annoying Sean could be. John wouldn't like to come here and find the man.

"Look, MacGuire. It was all John's idea. I don't know if he'll want you together, so..."

"Great, so let's wait for him! And he will have the final say! What do you say?"

"If he says no, you'll be out of here even if you're flying, Sean."

"Done."

* * *

Arthur ended up falling asleep leaning against a tree near the cart. He woke up with a sweet smell that he knew very well... and with an angry voice that he knew very well too.

"What is this idiot doing here?" John's voice was angry, and Arthur was amused to see Sean jump.

"I'm going with you, John! To work!" Sean smiled widely, trying to convince John.

"Very funny. But you are not going." John passed straight. Sean sighed, but he didn't give up.

"Come on, Marston! You can use one more man!" He tried. "H-Hey, Ya, big Indian, tell him!" He tried to follow Charles, who gave him a cold look.

"Leave me out of this." Charles cut.

"Come on John! I will never learn if you don't let me help you!" He followed John like an anxious puppy. "Let me help, you will see how I can do this!"

John sighing, looking for Arthur's gaze. He needed support, and for that he needed the older man. Arthur shrugged, still holding John's gaze. They understood each other very well, just by looking. _I trust your judgment._

John smiled. He didn't need words to understand his Arthur.

"You can come, boy. But if you screw with my robbery, I'll skin you and hang your skin on Pearson's cart. Is that clear?"

Sean almost jumped for joy. "I understand, boss!" Jumping on the cart, he called the others. "What are we waiting for? We have a train to steal!"

John rolled his eyes at the boy's excitement. It was obvious that he was new to this kind of thing. He could ruin everything, and risk the lives of all members.

"Don't worry so much, Johnny." Arthur appeared beside him, making John's heart jump. "I'll be right by your side if something goes wrong."

It was everything John needed to hear.

* * *

The post-assault adrenaline rushed through the young man's veins. John never felt so alive. Riding on the Old Boy's back, he turned around just to see if his companions were still following him. Arthur laughed like a child who had made a mischief, and the sound of his laughter filled John's ears.

"I can't believe we did it!" Sean was speaking with a huge smile on his face. "We really did it!"

"You almost got yourself killed, actually, you fucking Irish!" John spoke, slowing his horse. "If Arthur wasn't fast, we would be burying you now."

"Details, my friend John, details! The important thing is that we made it! Did you get the money, Arthur?"

Stopping Iron close to Ennis, Arthur rummaged through his purse for money. Sean's horse raised its ears as Arthur approached, and quickly moved away, jumping to the other side.

"Easy, boy! I know Arthur is ugly, but we don't need to throw that in his face!" Sean laughed, stroking the gelding's neck.

"Here's everyone's part. I'm going to give Dutch the gang's part." Muttered Arthur, handing each member a fair amount of money. It was good money. "Remember to contribute to the camp..."

"Was that a hint for me?" Sean asked, looking offended.

Charles laughed, redirecting Taima away. "Well, I see you at the camp. It was good to work with you ..." Saying that, he disappears from view.

"I'm going too. I promised Karen a drink tonight!" Sean finally goes too, leaving John and Arthur alone.

"Thanks for the help, Morgan. And for trusting me." John finally says, shifting the Old Boy's mane timidly. He didn't know why, but he was shy with regret when he was alone with the older man.

"It was a good plan... I wouldn't have thought of it myself."

"Don't overdo it, Arthur..." John felt his cheeks start to turn a little red. "Well... we should split up..." He didn't want to say that, but he knew it was the right thing to do.

"You know what? I would kill for a beer." The older man laughed. "I think we deserve it after that night."

Arthur's smile almost reached his ears. "Great, boy, come on! My throat is dry!"  
  
The two ride to the muddy city, seeing the streets almost empty. However, the front of the main Saloon was full, and many lights came out.

Arthur smiled, looking agitated. John smiled too, wanting nothing more than to see Arthur have some fun.

They entered the great Valentine Saloon, and the place stank of horse shit and alcohol. Arthur went straight to the bar and leaned on the counter, already calling the waiter. John followed, putting himself right next to the big cowboy. It was amazing how small John was compared to Arthur. 

"What's for you?" A man with a big black mustache asked Arthur. He wore a dirty green apron, and had a towel slung over his shoulder. John thought that towel must have seen better days.

"Two beers, partner." Arthur already felt more relaxed. The smell of blood and testosterone ran wildly through the bar, making the beast ruffle its fur. He felt ready for a fight, as if he could jump on any male's neck. His nostril swelled, and his senses exploded. What the hell was wrong with him now? He could hear the groans of the prostitutes working on the floor above, and the adrenaline of sex adorning the air. It made him sweat. The environment was warm and closed, and John being around him was not helping at all. The smell of his mate was sweet, like honey and cinnamon, and it was driving him crazy. And the worst: he couldn't stop looking at John.

Until the young man realized.

"Are you really okay? You're looking at me weird..." John was wondering how his friend was behaving.

"I'm... fine..." Arthur murmured slowly. John looked around, a little worried.

"Come on, there's a free table over there."

"Yes... sit... yes..." Arthur felt he would follow John to hell at that moment. The sweet smell that the young man emanated was intoxicating him, and it had nothing to do with the beer he was drinking.

"Man, I'm starving." John spoke as soon as Arthur sat down on the chair. "I'm going to get something to eat, it will be good to vary Pearson's stew." He laughed at his own joke. "Want something?"

 _Yes. You._ "No... I'm good." Arthur spoke. He was restless. The thick air in the bar was making him nervous. The beast was strangely still, not wanting anything more than to keep an eye on your mate. But Arthur had to control himself or he could scare John from some form.

John reached the counter and leaned, trying to get the bartender's attention. "Hey, partner!"

"Wait a second!" The man with the mustache shouted, answering another customer.

John sighed and stood up, waiting for his turn, without noticing a stranger coming by his side.

"Damn, nice ass, partner."

John shook his head in disbelief. "Sorry?" He got it wrong, didn't he? He had to get it wrong. _I'm a little deaf, I think I got it wrong._

"Your ass. I could easily mistake you for a woman in the dark." The man smiled predatorily. John looked up. He was easily almost a head taller than John himself. A full red beard stank of alcohol. It really stank. "How much do you cost, doll?"

 _Breathe Marston._ "Fuck you, idiot." John was not in the mood to start a fight. Really no.He was exhausted after the train was stolen and didn't really want to fight. Not today.

"Look at the manners, cutie. Come on up, let me open this hole with my tongue, let's go." The man didn't seem to want to give up so soon, and it was starting to irritate and scare John.

Grabbing John's arm, the dark-haired young man saw red. "Damn, I'm going to rip your skin off! Let me go!"

There was not much time for John to do anything or to honor his own honor. On the other side of the Saloon, Arthur was watching the scene with his nails dug into the wooden table. A beautiful prostitute had sat next to him, trying to get his attention, but the beast now only had eyes for the bastard who was trying to grab John.

The big blond cowboy flew over to where John was, pulling the redheaded feller off the young man with one hand. Throwing the man who was not at all small over a table, Arthur advanced on him, already with his jaw clenched, just a word echoing in his head.

  
  
**_KILL. KILL. KILL. KILL._ **

  
  
The bar was in total euphoria. The fight was already on the loose, and the bets on Arthur and the big guy were already starting to happen. John tried in vain to calm Arthur, who seemed completely beside himself.

The other man stood up in an attempt to defend himself against Arthur. "Defending the little slut? Are you fucking him? I bet that ass should be pretty tight."  
  
Wrong choice of words.

Arthur's eyes reach a shade of red, causing the beast to really come out. In a roar, Arthur grabs the man by the collar, and throws him out the window, in a surreal display of fury. John runs to Arthur trying to grab him, but it's too late. He looks at the cowboy's distorted face, and the red has taken over the blue that used to be his eyes.   
  
Arthur felt as if the whole world was a mixture of anger, ecstasy and lust. His blood pulsed and literally burned inside his veins, and he didn't understand why it was happening. It made him angrier and more frustrated. He was mad with rage and jealous that the man had touched John.  
  
  


_**How dare the bastard, HOW DARE...!!** _

The beast roared inside his head, clouded his thoughts. Arthur couldn't think straight, he couldn't feel right, everything was blurry. He wanted blood, blood, blood.

But he wanted John too, John's scent, John's body, John's neck. _I want to mark him, I want everyone to see that he is mine, I WANT HIM...!_

He heard screamed around him, and he saw the bloody body of the bastard in front of him too. The man was big and still trying to fight, trying in vain to contain Arthur's frenzy.

John realized that there was nothing he could do but watch the fight, distressed. People were shouting around, urging the two men to fight, wanting to see blood and death. He doesn't notice when a small figure comes up behind him, lightly touching his shoulder. He turns around scared, already expecting the worst. 

"Fuck...! K-Kezia! Do you want to startle me, girl?!" He puts his hands on his face, catching his breath.

"John, what the hell is going on? Why is Arthur killing another guy? And why are you letting this happen?" The little gypsy girl looked horrified by the scene in front of her, she held John's arm, petrified.

"I don't know! He looks crazy! H-He went to defend me from this guy, and he's attacking him! He doesn't listen to me, what should I do?"

The young woman looked at him, seeming to understand. "But he will hear you. Get him out of there before he kills you, John. Quick, let's get him to the hotel room!" John looked questioningly at the gypsy but decided not to ask anything, he just felt that he should do what she was told.

"I tried to talk to him, Kezia... he..."

"Get very close to him, John. _Be firm._ " She said looking into his friend's eyes. John felt confidence in her eyes. He nodded.

John ran up to Arthur, he was going to kill the man if John wasn't fast. "Arthur. Arthur, listen to me: stop it. Did you hear me? STOP."

Arthur slows down the punches by turning his head slowly to John. John swallows hard when he sees the older man's face. Arthur's eyes are deep ruby red, and his mouth is wide with pointed teeth. Their canines are longer than normal, and ended up tearing the gums. He looked like a real nightmare. Arthur frowns, looking at John.

”... John?”

"Yes, it's me, Morgan... C-come with me... come..." John didn't want to admit it, but he was afraid. He pulled Arthur away, pulling him out of the crowd that was booing at being losing the fight.

Kezia was waiting for them near the hotel. Seeing her, Arthur snarled. John tried to calm him down by placing a hand on his chest. "She's here to help us, Arthur. You like her, remember? Kezia has always helped us..."

_**Truth. Nice Kezia. Bastard Leander.** _

Arthur eventually calmed down, letting him be led into the hotel. Johm hid his friend's face, and the receptionist asked no questions, happy to be paid in advance. "I just don't want confusion, right?"

Kezia spoke quickly to the short man at the reception, while John and Arthur went up to the bedroom. The older man was completely bloody, and still very agitated. Upon entering the room John got some water from the dressing table and took a clean cloth to wipe the blood. When John turned, Arthur was almost on top of him.

"A-Arthur? What are you doing?"

The cowboy bent over John, burying his head in the young man's neck. "You... you smell so good... John." John was completely petrified. Arthur snaked his arms around him, gluing the bodies together. John could see a growing bulge in the older man's pants.

"A-Arthur..."  
  
"You make me so crazy... I can't control myself with you around..." John was softening in the other's arms, completely involved in the sensations. Arthur's cock was completely hard now, and it brushed the fly of the man's pants. John started to rock his hips, making Arthur moan.

"Don't tease me, darlin '. Or I won't be able to hold myself..." The two were interrupted with a light knock on the door. Arthur growled in frustration, holding John tighter in his arms. "FUCK...! Go away!"

John opened his eyes, sad that the moment was over. "Arthur... it's Kezia. Remember? I'm going to talk to her. Clean up all that blood. I'll be right back." With red cheeks, John lets go of Arthur, who reluctantly lets go of the young man too.

Arthur mumbles, adjusting his hard cock in his pants. He turns to the water basin, and begins to undress to clean himself. John leaves the room quickly, giving his friend privacy.

"Hey..."

"Hey... how is he?"  
  
"Strange... he... sniffed my neck, Kezia. I don't know. Arthur is strange."

"I thought you were going to come and talk to me. Remember I said you might need it?" Said the gypsy, crossing her arms. "He's going through changes."

"I know I tried..." John scratched his chin, remembering the unpleasant encounter with Leander. "What's going on with him now?"

"Skipping all the parts of the story that should be important?" Kezia sighed. "Right now, he's going through a rut."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello people! The full moon is coming! lol
> 
> Thank you to everyone who is following my work! (:


	10. You're Just The Part Of Me I Can't Let Go

"Wait... w-what?" John stared at the gypsy, waiting for her to say it was a joke. But she didn't. "R-Rut? Are you serious?! Like a heat? Like a heat that animals have??”

"Basically, yes. It's like a mating season for males. They get more aggressive and look for a potential mating partner." Kezia tried to explain, paying attention to John's scared face. Deep down she wanted to laugh.

"You are talking about a human being, woman! And not about an animal...!" John spoke almost hysterically. "Humans don't have a mating season! I don't know what world you live in, Kezia, but here, it doesn't exist."

"If you stop acting like an asshole, I can explain you better." The young gypsy said crossing her arms. "Calm down, John. Or the hotel owner will come up to see what's going on. Do you want him to do that?"

John was suddenly embarrassed to be altered by someone who was just trying to help. Kezia could have just left him and Arthur in the middle of the city. He took a deep breath. " ‘m sorry, okay? I'm a little confused here. You just said that my friend is trying to mate, like a wild animal!"

Kezia uncrossed her arms, bringing a hand to John's shoulder. "I know, and I'm here to try to help you, John. Help you as much as Arthur. I know you know that Arthur is changing, aren't you? You're close to him, you care about him..."

 _Any small changes in my cowboy's behavior? Of course, I notice. I even notice when Arthur cuts his nails._ John thought. "Yes. I would be stupid if I didn't see that. We grew up together, I know Arthur..."

"Not just for that, John. You and Arthur share something much more profound. Like a soul bond." Kezia continued. "We don't have a lot of time now, he will start to be too restless with my presence. You need come to me, John, we need to talk about the beast, because believe me, the beast's rut is extremely more intense. This is just proof of what's to come.”

"The b-beast's rut?"

"I know it sounds scary, but believe me: you will know what to do." She thought about it, and finally said, "Meet me in three days at my clan's camp. It will be safer to talk there."

"Are you sure? Your brother..."

"Mahala will be there. She can help you too. Don't think about Leander, John. We just have to think about Arthur now, you need to be prepared." She thought some more. I'll have to be gone soon, and I'll be gone for a few days. So we need to talk first, come and see me in three days, but during the day, yes? Let's avoid the moonlight. Especially because it will be a full moon."

"Full moon? Kezia, are you talking nonsense!" At the end of the sentence, the two hear a knock on the door. It looked like Kezia was right after all. A thick, tension-filled voice echoes behind the bedroom door:

"John... come here... now..." John bites his lip. Arthur growls.

"He needs you, it is painful to go through this alone." Kezia says, already walking away. "Three days, John. Come during the day." Turning on her heels, the young gypsy goes, leaving John alone.

John looks at the closed door, and notices that he starts to shake. He doesn't really know why, but he is afraid to enter. Swallowing, he approaches slowly turning the knob. When opening the door, it is pulled hard inside, and the door is quickly closed. Arthur pushes him against the closed door, holding John's thin body firmly.

John opens his eyes slowly, looking at the angry figure in front of him. Arthur is shirtless, completely soaked in sweat. His hair is stuck to his forehead and face, and John can see the beads of sweat running down there too. The cowboy's eyes are still an intense ruby red, and they look straight at John, as if they could look through him. Arthur is panting, and the young man can see the sharp teeth tearing the man's gums. John swallows hard, not knowing what to say.

"A-Arth...?!"

With no time for John to speak, Arthur grabs him again, throwing him on the bed. John struggles to maintain his composure, but he can't deny it, he's starting to get terrified.

Arthur climbs on top of him freaking like a predator that has just captured its prey. The older man licks his lips, approaching John's neck, thrusting his face into the curve of soft skin.

"Ah... John... my John, my sweet mate." Arthur wanders in the sweet smell that his companion exhales, in the soft skin of the pale neck that is being displayed to him. He pulls on the young man's shirt, ripping it open to expose more skin.

John is startled to feel his shirt tear and shakes under Arthur's grip. He never thought he would see Arthur like this, he never _saw_ Arthur like this. _What will he do to me? He's going to hurt me!_ "P-Please, Arthur, don't h-hurt me..." He hated looking weak. But honestly? He was afraid of the man. Arthur was much bigger and much stronger. He could break him in half if he wanted, and in that state where the older man was... John didn't know what to expect.

The John’s low appeal paralyzes both Arthur and the beast.

**_  
Hurt... him...?_ **

  
  


Arthur walks away, looking at John, and now he realizes that his boy is shaking. "Hurt... you?" Arthur speaks. And John just can't look at him. "You are the only living creature that I couldn't hurt, John."

  
  


**_He is… afraid? Of… us? No... no... he is the only one who need not fear us…!_ **

  
  


Arthur bends down again, just rubbing the tip of his nose on John's cheek. "Don't be afraid, John. Please don't be afraid of us..."

John opens his eyes, finding Arthur's speech strange. "Us?"

The older man begins to make his movements more subtle, calmer and begins to leave soft kisses on John's neck. He slowly uses one leg to pull John's knees apart, and settles between the younger man's legs, rubbing his extremely hard erection on the boy's thigh.

John starts to feel more comfortable, feeling soft under Arthur's hot, wet kisses. Arthur knows how to make the boy come undone, and starts sucking on a tender spot just below the ear, making John gasp.

"Do you like it, Johnny?"

"Y-Yes... I… yes... please don't stop... " John asked. Arthur smiled between kisses, completely satisfied to please his mate. Knowing that John was like this because of him, was all that Arthue and the beast needed at that moment.

_**Only we make him feel that way, we and no one else,** _

The small hotel room was hot, suffocating even, but neither man seemed to care. One wanted to take care of the other, one wanted to give pleasure to the other…

Nothing mattered more to Arthur than watching John melt beneath him. The moans that the younger man let out were the most wonderful thing Arthur had ever heard, and he would have given anything to have that sound forever recorded in his memory. 

John felt completely divided, after all, what was going on? For years he dreamed of this, this scene, these kisses, this heat. He wanted to feel more, wanted to kiss Arthur, wanted to give himself to him… body and soul, wanted to say how much he loved him. _I love you so much, Arthur. I always loved you…_ He knew he couldn't say that, at least not now. He had to know what was going on before. Arthur was wanting him now because of the rut. Whatever that means…

Arthur starts grinding slowly against John, making John forget anything that could be worrying his mind. _Please let me feel it just once, to be etched in my memory forever... just once…_ Sucking the young man's neck, Arthur begins to leave marks possessive throughout the expanse of pale skin. As a warning to any man who might look at John. He slowly moves his hand down, until he reaches his boy's pants buckle, and slowly undoes it.

The friction gets stronger, more hungry, and Arthur loses more and more the little control he has left. He just wants to rip off John's clothes, take that body that belongs to him, that is his, that has always been his. It never belonged to anyone else.

"You are mine, John. Only mine...! Promise me that you will never let anyone touch you! Swear to us...John, swear..."

Arthur licked and sucked the skin on John's neck fiercely as he rubbed his hard cock against John's cock. The young man felt unbearably hot, he couldn't think straight, not when he was so close to an orgasm like that. And not when he was like this with the man he had loved for so long. 

"A-Arthur... I..." _Hot, too hot. I can't think... _John could feel his cock hurt so hard it was, and and he just wanted to come, he just wanted Arthur to let him come.

And Arthur was no different. The strange sensations of his rut were driving him crazy. He could smell John's arousal, he could smell the precum that soaked the younger man's underwear. _We need to show everyone that he belongs to us, I need to show the world that he is mine..._

"I don't want anyone else to come near you, I don't want anyone else to touch you, to feel the warmth of your skin..." Arthur breathed heavily in John's ear as he ground his thick cock against John's groin. "You belong to me John Marston, every bit of you belongs to me..." Arthur put a big hand on John's chest, placing a nipple between his fingers, turning it gently. John groaned provocatively. "Do you understand me, boy?"

"But... Abig..." John tried to speak when he was stopped by the sharp pain of the sprained nipple. He gave a little hiss of pain.

"Don't speak anyone else's name, except mine." Growled Arthur, rolling John's sensitive nipple between his fingers. "I told you, Johnny, you belong to me, body and soul, only me..."

John closed his eyes tightly, giving himself over to the moment. He would deal with the world later. Now all that mattered was Arthur. Only Arthur. " Y-Yes. Yes. You, just y-you..."

Arthur smiled. The beast too.

**_  
Yes. Yes! Show everyone, show it! Mark him, mark our boy..._ **

  
_Mark him? What if John didn't like it?_

Arthur stepped away for a moment to look at John's delicate skin, where the muscle of the shoulder and neck met, forming the perfect angle. _The perfect place for a bite._ John shakes violently below the older man, while Arthur spreads hot kisses all over the young man's neck and collarbone.

John gasps when he feels Arthur's mouth drop further, leaving a trail of hot saliva wherever he goes. His breath hitches when Arthur grabs a hardened nipple, sucking and nibbling like a starving man who hasn't seen food in days, and John was the most delicious meal placed in front of him.

"Repeat, John... say that again..."

John swallows, his mind clouded with desire. "I... am yours, and nobody else..."

"A boy so good for me, so good... so good for us..." Arthur purred, tracing John's nipple with his tongue, drawing sighs from the other. "Do you want to come, John? Do you?" Arthur started to slowly lower a hand, going towards John's penis. The young man was so excited, so close to orgasm, that he didn't care if he was going to come in his pants like a teenager in the beginning of puberty. He just wanted Arthur to let him come, he just wanted Arthur to give him permission to be free.

"P-Please, A-Arthur. Please..." John tried his best to cling to the man, his nails bitten off doing a terrible job. He almost cries when he feels the older man's hand go down to his groin, stroking his hard cock, playing with his fly.

"I didn't hear you right, John. Maybe you don't want that much..." _Damn it. He barely did anything and already leaves me like this, wanting to come in my pants like a damn boy._

John couldn't take it anymore. He just knew he couldn't take it anymore. "F-Fuck, Arthur. Do anything, just let me come... f-fuck me if you want, just for the God sake, let me come, you idiot!” Part of John's brain was startled by how easily those words came out of his mouth. But he didn't care. He had been on the edge for so long, he didn't care.

Arthur's pupils dilated furiously at the spontaneous words of John. This boy was surrendering to him. For them. Arthur quickly unzipped the young man's pants, and did just that with his own, joining the two red, dripping cocks.

John groaned loudly at the sensation, plunging into the sensation of a big red dick stuck to his. "Fuck ... Arthur... fuck..."

"This is my boy... groan my name... let me hear you, Johnny, let me hear you moan..." Arthur's voice dripped sweet as honey, and John could get lost in that voice forever, he could feel the orgasm curl in his stomach like a spring, and it wouldn't last much longer. Arthur could also feel it coming, and the closer the orgasm came, the stronger the connection to the beast became. He felt something different about his penis too, like a swelling at the base, but Arthur didn't know why it made things better.

And when the sweet orgasm finally tore the two lovers in half, Arthur roared, snapping a protective instinct in half that he had never felt before.

**_MARK HIM!_ **

Without thinking of anything else, Arthur sank his powerful teeth into the muscle of John's neck. The young man screamed, half anesthetized by the pleasure, but still feeling the sharp pain of the bite tearing through the fragile flesh.

John clings to Arthur's back, letting some hot tears run down his face. He felt his seed mixed with Arthur's in his stomach, and he could also feel his own blood running down his shoulder.  
Arthur walked away looking satisfied with the bite he had left on the mate's muscle. Licking the wound affectionately, in order to calm the pain, he fills the red and bloody skin with kisses.

John tried to move, and was startled when Arthur let out something like a growl. The older man hugged him tighter and didn't let him move.

"Arthur? I wanted to get up and..."

"No."

"W-What?"

"No. Stay here."

"I want to clean up! There's... ahm... s-semen in both of us!" John said excitedly.

"You are going to leave the room. No. Stay here, I want to hug you."

John blinked a few times as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing. And he was not. Was Arthur really there?

Arthur moved to just lie next to John and pull the young man into his strong arms. "Sleep, Johnny. I'm tired and you must be too." Using a piece of cover to clean up their little mess, Arthur won't let John leave him. After making sure his mate was clean, Arthur pulls a clean cover over them, putting a thick arm over John.

John always wanted to be in Arthus' arms. But, he needed to know what was going on with his cowboy. Everything that was happening... was too weird. He had to find answers to the changes, because he feared that something bad would happen to Arthur. And that he would not endure. My God, what would he do if something happened to Arthur? No, no. It was better not to even think about it, he didn't want to imagine that something like this could happen. As strange as the situation was, he allowed himself to enjoy the moment a little and sank into the comfort of the older man's arms. Arthur was so warm, and his arms were so inviting. He wrapped himself in the protective arms of the man he loved and gave himself up to a peaceful, dreamless sleep.

John Marston slept in the snore of the man he loved most on the face of the earth.

* * *

Arthur woke up calmer the next morning, smelling the bite he had made on John's neck. The wound was still sore, but John tried not to complain too much, since Arthur still had his animal instincts a little on. The older man was no longer in the excitement phase, but was walking behind John like a real shadow.

John was surprised that he was so protected, not least because the two had not "mated" properly. But even so, Arthur walked behind the young man possessively, looking lopsided even at the hotel owner who had tried to wish John a good day.

"Do you want to stop walking so close? I'm going to trip!"And John was not lying. Arthur was so close that John was almost twisting his legs over the older man's legs. _What the hell!?_

Arthur just let out a disgruntled grunt, glaring at everyone who dared to cross in front of him. The two went to the horses and prepared them, with the idea of returning to the camp. John was feeling a little uneasy. According to Kezia, on three nights it would be a full moon. He felt like something was clutching his stomach. He needed to speak to Kezia. I needed to talk about the beast.

"Do you want to go back to camp?" John asked. He did not want to tell Arthur that he would visit Kezia in three days. I needed to keep it a secret.

"Where are you going?" Arthur asked bluntly.

"I-I'm going back to the gang's camp. We need to report to Dutch about the robbery."

"I'll go with you."

"Right."

The trip to Horseshoe Overlook was calm and without much conversation. Arthur was farther back all the time, as if he were alert, prepared to defend John if something happened along the way. They arrived and the camp was quiet, with some people talking at the main fire and some drinking coffee. Dutch's smile lit up when he saw his two boys coming.

"Ha! Finally, they arrived! My boys! Charles and Sean told me, the train was stolen! I couldn't be more proud of my two boys!" Dutch smiled at them with open arms. He first approached John, who was leading the way, giving the Golden Boy a tight hug. Arthur clenched his fists and held a growl in his throat. Luckily, nobody noticed.  
  
He moved away from John, towards Arthur, who was standing uncomfortably in place. "My son, you are the one who keeps this gang standing." He said grabbing Arthur's shoulder with his hand. "You are tense, son, come on, let's celebrate!"

"I think Arthur should get some rest, Dutch!" John spoke quickly. "He was injured a little during the theft."

Hosea, who was nearby, approached Arthur with concern. "Are you hurt, boy?"

"Nah." Arthur replies, looking at John now. "Just a little tired. I think I'm going to my tent. Do you mind joining me, Marston? I have some ideas for a new robbery."

"That's what I like to hear!" Exclaimed Dutch contentedly. "They have barely returned from a successful robbery, and they are already planning the next one. What did I say, Hosea? Very soon we will be picking mangoes in Tahiti! Listen to what I am saying, old friend!" Hosea did not seem to hear Dutch's enthusiasm and was watching Arthur closely. When the leader left, he approached his two sons.

"Are you okay, boys?" Asked the man, concerned.

Arthur looked at his father, letting his guard down a little. "Fine, old man. Don't worry so much. Just... tired." John agreed, placing a hand on Hosea's shoulder, and giving him a reassuring smile.

John was about to speak when someone called him. "John!" Abigail ran towards him, throwing herself into his arms. "I was so worried!" John froze, looking immediately at Arthur. 

Arthur's eyes were red and the man kept his jaw clenched with huge canines on display. _Shit! What if someone sees you like this?!_ Hosea just hadn't seen it because he was focused on John and Abigail, smiling kindly at them.

"It's great to see you, too, Abigail." John came out of the embrace as quickly as possible, holding the woman kindly. Thank God Arthur turned on his back, making it impossible for anyone to see him. But in reality he just didn't want to see John being sweet to anyone but him. He didn't know why it hurt so much. It was like tearing his own heart in half.

John realizes this, and quickly moves away from Abigail. Even though Arthur is controlling himself now, he doesn't know how long that control can last.

"I will accompany Arthur to his tent, we are discussing a new robbery. I will see you later..."

"Will you two be together again, John? I thought maybe you could spend time with me and Jack. I miss you, you know." Abigail said in a silky voice. John trembled like a green stick.

"I'll meet you two later. I'm just going to work things out." Said John putting a hand on Arthur's back. He felt the older man relax a little at the touch. Abigail crossed her arms, dissatisfied with John's decision, but waved away with Hosea's company. John sighed with relief, following Arthur to the tent.

John was tense, following Arthur on the way to the tent. When they got there, Arthur was quick to pull John behind the wagon, where there was no one around. John was startled but he couldn't resist, let the older man grab him and put him against the cart.

The man pulled on John's shirt and the high collar that hid the fresh bite that the young man used to cover up the wound. He kissed the place lightly, inhaling the scent of the boy's skin.

"Mine, mine, only mine."

"A-Arthur, come on, we can't do this here. Someone can see us." John tried to speak. John ran his hands over Arthur's chest and had not noticed that the cowboy was a little more hairy than normal.

"I don't want anyone touching you... I don't want to, John." John was melting again in Arthur's touches. He was so screwed. What could he do? Everything about Arthur made him crazy.

Three days and the full moon would come. Why was he so nervous about this?

_Arthur... a beast? Impossible!... Huh?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Of course, John! (:
> 
> Happy Halloween, guys 🦇 🎃


	11. In The Light Of The Full Moon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello beautiful people! How are you?
> 
> In this chapter we will have Arthur's graphic transformation. The full moon finally came! I don't know if it looks good, but anyway, I hope you enjoy it. If you are a very sensitive person, maybe you don't like it.
> 
> Enjoy! (:

Kezia looked nervously at the gypsy camp boundaries. Her restless feet crushed the soft earth, making it hard and flat. She bitten her nails and pressed the hem of her skirt with her small hands, walking from side to side. This did not go unnoticed by the clan matriarch.

"You're making me nervous, little girl." Mahala spoke, disregarding the work she was doing, interpreting some tarot cards, having to start over.

"I'm sorry, madam." She apologized promptly, a little ashamed. "It's John. I asked him to come today, during the day, and it is almost dark and there is no sign of that boy! It's a full moon night, Mahala. "She sighed worriedly." His first full moon. I had the most trouble getting Leander out of camp today. "

"Your brother will be back soon, you know. I don't know how you got he out." The old woman spoke. "But I know that you sympathized with those two boys.”

"I couldn't help it, madam. I just want to help them. And Leander would never allow it. He insists on this ‘hunter’ thing... he doesn't understand that werewolves can contain their instincts, if they manage to regain consciousness during the transformation. And a mate helps in that."

"Well, that we will see, my dear girl. Now go, your energy is hindering me here. Send young John to me when you are done with him." Mahala spoke seriously, still trying to interpret the Tarot cards. Kezia nodded and left, feeling even more nervous when she saw the sunset start to point on the horizon when she descended the small stairs of the matriarch's cart. John was very late.

"John, you stubborn head, why don't you listen to me?"

* * *

John rode as fast as poor Old Boy could. "Sorry, boy. I promise to reward you later." The gelding snorted as he ran.  
  
Oh he was so late. Kezia would kill him. Oh, she would. He had promised that he would meet the young woman by day, but... he was worried about Arthur. The man was strange, more than usual. And it was killing John.

The "rut" had lasted the three days, with Arthur literally stuck on John's heels.

They walked together, as if they were glued together, Arthur hovering over John like a shadow. A big, nervous and horny shadow.

John had to invent some small thefts and jobs in order to get Arthur out of camp, just so the two could masturbate and relieve themselves among the trees. The older man used to push John against the bigger trees, not having the patience to even take off his clothes first. He just lifted John up, grabbing his lean ass and wrapping his legs around his waist, making the young man cross his ankles. Then Arthur unzipped his pants, pulling his thick, heavy cock, while John did the same. John felt he was in heaven while Arthur stroked both of his cocks with a large hand while sucking on the skin of the young man's neck. Even without real sex, it had been the best experience John had ever had.

John never lasted long. He was always on edge. The two had not actually arrived at the act, but John was happy to have had this experience with Arthur. Now, the older man seemed distant. Arthur... had he finally realized what he had done, and was he disgusted?

This crushed the young man's heart.

That was probably what had happened.Arthur was under the effect of ‘rut’ hormones, so he behaved that way. That was why he was longing for John so strongly. And now that this phase was over, Arthur had realized what had happened and that he had touched John Marston. _The failed John Marston._

John smiled wistfully, trying not to let any tears fall. He had spent the whole day behind Arthur, trying to talk to him, see if he was okay, if he needed anything. Arthur had been rude and harsh, with a quick, "Leave me alone, Marston," Completely antagonizing those three days they had spent together. John would never admit that it broke his heart.

Even Abigail realized that he was suddenly sad, and came to talk to him, trying to comfort him. He knew that she cared about him. _Silly girl, why did you fall in love with someone like me?_ She deserved someone better, someone who could give her a decent life.

She came with a cup of hot coffee, and offered it kindly to him. "You look tired... and have dark circles, you know?"

"I haven't been sleeping very well lately..." He replied, taking the offered cup, trying not to look into the woman's worried eyes.

"I believe it. Arthur's been hanging around you all the time. What's going on, John?"

"H-He... just got hurt during the train theft, and needed help. Nothing more, Abigail." Abigail noticed how John tried to dodge the question. She just noticed.

"John." She said putting a hand on his arm. "I just want you to know that I'm here. For you." He looked at her and suddenly he wanted to hug her and cry. Let it all out. "If you need me, I'm here."

He just swallowed the ball that kept growing in his throat. "Thank you, Abigail. Thank you, really." She smiled.

John shook his head. The soft late afternoon breeze was giving way to the cool night air, and he could see the limits of the Gypsy camp. The conversation he had with Abigail that afternoon stayed in the back of his mind, and he prepared to talk to Kezia. From a distance he could see a silhouette walking in circles, and he assumed to be the young gypsy. The person who walked looked nervous and wore red clothes with yellow accents. It was definitely Kezia.

Upon seeing John, she jumped, scaring both John and the Old Boy.

"John, you big idiot! What are you doing here at this hour?" She approached them with closed fists. John noticed how intimidating she looked.

"I... I'm here because you asked!" He started down from the Old Boy, letting the gelding graze loose. "You told me you would have answers,”

"I asked you to come in the day, you fool! Where's Arthur?" She asked looking over John's shoulders, looking for more people. "Didn't he come with you?"

John looked down, curling his fingers. "No," He struggled to keep his voice steady. "He doesn't seem to want my company anymore,"

Kezia sighed. "Of course. Well, we're already fucked up."

"What do you mean?"

"It's a full moon night, John." Kezia said reaching out to the sky. "Night of the beasts, of creatures… call it what you want." She said taking a bottle of gin and taking a sip.

"You said that if I came here, you would give me answers, Kezia," said John approaching the gypsy. "I'm more confused than ever. Don't treat me like I'm an fool, what exactly is Arthur becoming?" John trembled at the question.

"At least you know he's changing." Kezia laughed without humor. John realized that there were few people in the camp. _Why?_

“Kezia… please…”

"Do you remember the thing that attacked you a few nights ago?"

John's world stopped. He hadn't had much time to think about that demon. In that demon that had almost killed the man he loved most. Flashes of that day crossed John's mind with such a force that he almost fell backwards. _A huge creature, sharp teeth, Arthur saving him, claws, blood, red eyes, gunshots, Arthur dying… Arthur… my love… no…_

"Is he becoming... that thing?" _No… my Arthur…_

Kezia saw the horror tracing John's face and approached him. "John, listen to me. Calm down. You need to hear me: it's not the end of the world, he still has a chance."

John looked hopefully at the girl. "Can this be cured?"

She closed her eyes tightly. "No, lycanthropy has no cure. The transformation will occur on each full moon." John buried his face in his hands. "But it can be controlled! With your help, Arthur can control the beast!"

"Control the beast?! How, Kezia, how!?" He said a little too loudly. But he didn't care. The information had come like a stone in the head. After all, Arthur had sacrificed himself for him. "That thing that attacked us was not thinking! That monster tried to kill Arthur!"

"John pull yourself together!" Said the gypsy holding John's arms. "Listen when I say that the beast can be controlled! And the destined mate is the one who can control! You managed to contain Arthur in Valentine, didn't you? I said you could, and you did!"

It was true, John had managed to calm Arthur down. But Arthur was in his... 'human form'. How would he control a beast almost ten feet tall?

"H-How... how can you say that with such certainty?"

Kezia smiled sheepishly. "Because my lover is also a werewolf."

* * *

The day seemed to be upside down. Arthur was feeling completely strange, as if nothing was right. It was almost night now and John was nowhere to be seen. 

_Of course, after the way I treated him. Idiot, idiot, IDIOT!_ He just didn't know why he had treated John like that. He was so nervous, he just wanted to be alone, but there was no reason to treat John like that. The beast was restless, howling in despair.

**_WHERE HE IS, WHERE HE IS, WHERE HE IS,_ **

_Calm the fuck down!_

_**YOU CAN'T HOLD ME MORE, I WILL GO OUT, I WILL LOOK FOR HIM,** _

_What the hell is happening?_

Arthur is at camp, when he starts to sweat without stopping. His body hurts, as if he has been run over by a hundred horses. _I need to take a walk._

He went towards Iron Eagle, wanting nothing more than to ride the stallion and run. He needed to leave, he _felt_ he needed to leave. 

"Arthur, are you okay, son?" He could hear Hosea's concerned voice. _Not now._

"Y-Yes, I need to go! I'll be back soon!" Iron looked at Arthur, initially wanting to dodge the owner. "Come on, boy, please." At some cost, he manages to mount, and hitting the spurs on the horse's belly, they disappear into the forest.

The riding of the stallion does not lessen Arthur's discomfort. He is sweating so much that he has already soaked his shirt, and his breathing has become heavy. "Damn it! What's going on with me, my God?" He leaves the main road and enters a side forest, feeling the vision start to blur. He doesn't want to be an easy target for bandits, so he decides to get out of sight of anyone who might pass by.

The beast is terribly quiet. Too quiet.

Night finally falls. A sharp pain pierces his lungs, and Arthur screams in agony. Iron reared, scared, knocking over the owner, who fell to the hard floor, moaning with more pain. "Fuck!"

The stallion runs off, as if he had seen a predator. An extremely dangerous predator. Arthur looked around for some animal. Nothing.

"Iron! Come back, boy!" Arthur screams desperately. He's alone in the forest. Alone in a goddamn forest! Sick, out of supplies, and without a horse. _Great...!_

Until a noise came over his mind. A noise that left Arthur's mind blank.

Through the leaves of the trees, the moonlight envelops the forest, and Arthur automatically looks up, kidnapped by the beauty of the full moon. 

He wants to, but he can't stop looking. The beauty of the moon tears his eyes, which bleed until his irises become an intense ruby red. The pain returns to Arthur's lungs, which burn as if he were breathing fire.

And with the thunderous pain, there was vocalized pain. The screams started.

The screams of pain echo through the forest, and Arthur kneels on the ground, listening to the sound of his own bones breaking, shaping himself to shape a new creature. The hair begins to grow all over the body, giving a wild and grotesque look to Arthur's former human appearance. His nails pierce his fingertips, giving rise to giant claws, completely sharp. 

All the tanned skin tears into pieces, like rotten tissue, giving space for the muscles to grow and develop. Arthur tries to wrench the pain out with his hands and grabs his arms, just tearing off his bloody skin. He could see his own muscles beneath all the blood that runs down his body, and the sight makes him want to vomit.

His knees break back, forming the werewolf's ankles, stretching his leg until the skin is torn. When the leg stretches far enough, it breaks forward, forming a bony, strong knee. A long, hairy tail protrudes from the end of Arthur's spine, swinging furiously. The teeth grow to the point of tearing the gums, the blood flows through Arthur's mouth that mixes with the drool. The jaw stretches to form the long snout. The ribcage expanded, causing the bones in his chest to crack, to make room for the large organs that were forming from there.

The pain. The damn pain. Arthur thought that death would be more merciful. He thought hell would be easier to face. _Please, someone kill me faster._ The screams turned into howls. Arthur could hear, but he couldn't understand. Yet the pain was diabolical. His muscles tear to make way for bigger and stronger and stiffer muscles, making Arthur feel each fiber of flesh tearing to make way for the other. And when he couldn't take it anymore, when he wished to die dozens of times, the beast woke up... furious, hungry and thirsty.

  
 _ **MY TURN...!**_  
  
  
Arthur didn't have much time to think. The only thing that came to his mind was a request:

"P-Please... don't hurt him..."

And with that, the conscience leaves Arthur, giving way to the mind of the cruel beast. The huge creature sniffed the air, looking for the scent of just one person. And the beast was willing to smash anything that threatened to get in its way.

But the werewolf would follow Arthur's request. Both the beast and Arthur loved John. And they would give their lives if it was necessary to protect their mate.

* * *

John looked at the young woman a little disbelievingly. "Hm... lover? Werewolf?"

Kezia nodded slightly, crossing her arms over her chest. "Yes, a werewolf. I know this word is scary for you, but it will get you used to it, and you will learn to help Arthur."

"And how do you help him? How did you find out that he was your destined mate?" John asked nervously.

"Well... I found out that SHE was my mate some time ago.” John blinked, and his cheeks went red. “We were complete strangers. She was already a werewolf when I met her. But that's history for another day, John. We need to be quick, after all today is a full moon day. and it will be Arthur’s first transformation. I’m a little worried that he’s alone.”

John felt his chest tighten. "Oh crap, I need to find him." He said looking at the moon that was already shining in the sky.

"The moon is high, we can only wait. He will come to you. I just hope Leander doesn't come back today. But if he happens to come... run. Take the beast away." Said Kezia taking another sip of gin. She seemed a little disturbed by the mention of her brother.

"But... what if... what if he tries to kill me?" John was scared. Very afraid. What would he do if the beast tried to kill him!? _I would never hurt Arthur. He can kill me, but I would never hurt him._

"You know he won't do that. He will kill anyone, John. Except his mate." Kezia spoke with extreme excitement. "Trust me. Go see Mahala now, if you don't believe me."

"That's not it, Kezia..." John tried to explain. "It's too much for me, I'm confused..."

"Go see her, John. I'll be preparing some things." She said.

"What do I do if Arthur arrives? What if he tries to attack the camp?"

"As I said, you are the only one who can calm him in the form of the beast. It will be a long way, John. Until he can completely control himself. You two will have to work together." Said the gypsy. "But believe me when I say it's possible. I wanted to have this conversation calmly with you, but you were a little late here, you fool."

"Yes, I'm sorry, okay?" Said the outlaw ashamed.

"Yes, of course. I took my brother from camp for this. Now go see Mahala."

She indicated the old gypsy wagon, and John headed over there. He felt he didn't have much time. And I really didn't. He felt dizzy from the conversation he had had with Kezia.

Before knocking on the wagon door, he heard a severe "Come in." Shaking, he entered.

It was dark, and the old woman was sitting in the center of the room, facing a table. A few candles lit the table, and Mahala had her eyes closed.

"D-Did you want to see me?"

The old gypsy opened her opaque eyes, looking at John. "Sit down," John looked at the stool in front of the table, and sat down slowly, still afraid. "I tend to talk a lot about fate around here, Mr. Marston. After all, that's what people look for our people for. To find out about fate, love, future." Said Mahala. "I can decipher people just by looking at them. I confess that is even clearer when I think of you and Mr. Morgan."

"I dont understand..."

"You must have talked to Kezia a little bit about the beasts that circulate around. There aren't many, Mr. Marston. They're really rare.”

"What else can you tell me about them?"

“These creatures are extremely territorial, Mr. Marston. Most importantly, once the inner beast chooses his mate, he will go to the ends of hell to bring it back. "The old gypsy woman's empty eyes caused John's spine to chill.

"B... but I am a man!" _How could he be?_

The gypsy laughed at John's confusion. "That's what matters least. He chose you, dear John. The beast wants you, and I can see... he marked you. He will kill anything that is between you two, to protect you."

In the background, a roar cut the air. "And he's here."

John freezes when he hears the colossal howl. It wasn't an ordinary animal. It was a big thing. Extremely big.

"John!" Kezia came running. "He's here, he's looking for you!" John got up quickly, running out. The few people who were in the gypsy camp were frozen with fear. They all held some kind of weapon, but they trembled a lot, as they knew they had no chance without Leander and the other hunters.

John couldn't let Arthur... let the _beast_ hurt those people. He needed to do something.

"Get on the carts!" Kezia shouted at the gypsies. "Now!" The people quickly obeyed the young woman, without hesitation. John closed his fists until his knuckles were white.

"John, take him away, please. He's still very unstable, he can hurt someone. Remember what I told you. You can help him control himself."

John was shaking so badly he couldn't find the words. He could hear a loud growl approaching the camp, darkness taking over the place. Kezia climbed into the cart, hiding with the others.

John didn't think much. He whistled and boldly the Old Boy rode up to him, but the horse was very agitated. Quickly climbing on the animal, John set off towards the nearby forest, where he could put Arthur safely.

Running as fast as he could, John rode to the heart of the forest where it all started. He dismounted from his faithful mount and sent him away, after all, he would not forgive himself if something happened to his horse.

John was shaking. He was alone in the forest, and he could hear heavy breathing with equally heavy steps approaching.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…” Something was approaching, sniffing the air. And it was when the beast came out from behind the trees that John saw that he was really fucked.

The creature was huge. He would die today, there was no way for Arthur to recognize him.

“A-Art-thur…?”

The beast snarled, showing the row of pointed teeth. John's hand automatically traveled to the holster. As the beast approached, John dropped to his knees.

”Arthur! It’s me!”


	12. Return to Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello friends! Sorry for the delay. I have a lot of work on my back lately. I hope you like this chapter ;) 
> 
> I promise that the next one will come soon!

* * *

Kezia was shaking her leg nervously. She was nervous. Afraid. John could get hurt. What if transformed Arthur killed him? What if he couldn't calm the beast? Had she made the right choice? How she wanted her lover to be here. She would know what to do.

“They'll be fine, my dear girl.” Mahala stopped beside her, handing her a cup of hot tea. “Fate wanted it that way, and we have to respect it.”

“What if Arthur kills him, Mahala?” Kezia squeezed the cup.

“Did Evie try to kill you?”

Kezia snorted. “It was different... she...”

“From what I remember, it wasn't much different. Answer me, girl: Did Evie hurt you in any way?”

“She would never hurt me... I know that.” The young gipsy ducked her head, lovingly remembering her girlfriend. How she missed her.

“You have your answer.” Mahala said calmly, turning and going to the chart table. “And as much as I also want to protect these boys, we know that the youngest is the only one who can control the beast. We cannot interfere, my girl.” Kezia sighed, looking out into the darkness. She could only hope that the matriarch was right.

* * *

The werewolf sniffed the air. He could smell the stench of John's fear heavy in the atmosphere of the place like a toxic cloud that plagued oxygen. The smell of fear and dread that came out of the human's pores excited the beast in many different ways. The pleasure of the hunt, the terror of the victims... was something that moved werewolves for centuries. And it was no different with the one who had just woken up. That he had just discovered himself.

For John, time had stopped. He could not move, his feet simply did not obey simple commands. The only thing he could see in front of him was the giant monster that threatened his life. _But it’s not a monster. It's Arthur! My Arthur!_ As much as he was trying to convince himself of this - and he was, - John was terrified. The red-eyed creature comes closer and closer, snarling and drooling, ready to attack and tear his throat. The creature that rose above him was not human, nor did he think like a human.

“Arthur… it’s me, A-Arthur… please...” John babbled without much success. The hand trembled over the holster. He could feel the sweat running down the back of his neck, and fear started to affect all his limbs. Was Arthur really that beast? Those red eyes were nothing like the sweet blue eyes of the cowboy he loved so much. It was impossible to imagine that someone sweet like Arthur could turn into something so... horrendous. “Please, Arthur…”

Why was he still trying? That thing couldn't even have a soul. The beast would rip John apart before he could even try something Kezia taught. _Oh my God, what had she really taught?_ Arthur must be somewhere inside, inside that monster. If he were really there, there was little chance of him hearing John's call. Arthur was the kindest being the young man had ever had the pleasure of meeting ... John loved him with all the strength of his being. He was a gentle giant, and he was sure that Arthur would never hurt him. Never. 

The wonderful moments he had spent with the older man were going to stay in his memory forever, and John was sure of that. The past three days had been intense, but the young man had never felt so loved in his life. It had been very worthwhile, and John wanted to believe that had meant something to Arthur too.

He looked again at the approaching creature, and concluded that running was not an option. He would be able to reach it before he even got up, so there was not much to escape.

Upon hearing a roaring growl from the beast, John automatically raised his hands, showing the werewolf that he had no intention of any kind of fight. _Nothing I could do against you would do any good... It would only make him attack faster._

The creature moved its ears slightly backwards, identifying the submissive gesture that the human in front of it had made. But he continued to show his teeth, not indicating that he had recognized John. The creature's mind seemed clouded, completely moved by the instinct to kill... after all it was hungry. The first tansformation had taken all of Arthur's energy reserve, and the pain had consumed with his strength. The beast needed to feed, and in front of it was a human ready to be eaten. What could be more convenient than that?

 _Kill, kill, kill._ He needed to eat, he needed to feed. His body was tired from the pain of the transformation, and the mind was no longer active. He needed to replenish his energies. Food... food... blood and meat. There was hot blood running from him, but not for long... _hot blood... fresh meat..._

The beast drooled with the feeling of finally being able to have fresh meat... the human hadn't been eating properly for some time, and they needed both the blood and the meat... but the foolish human didn't seem to want to learn about it, or at least be very stubborn. _Fool Arthur... why deny the inevitable?_

John was lying completely at the mercy of the creature. He was about to die and could only think of Arthur. What would he do when he realized that he himself had killed John? A lonely, painful tear ran down the young man's cheek. _He will never forgive himself. He will shut himself up in guilt forever. I know him... oh God... please Arthur, don't blame yourself, it's not your fault..._

The werewolf's loud growl tore he out of his thoughts and a sharp pain washed over John's ankle when he felt the beast step on him with one of his powerful hind legs. “Son of a bit-!!” John cried out in pain as he felt and heard his leg bone breaking, but it was cut off when one of the beast's hands landed right next to its head. With a broken leg now, it would be more difficult to escape.

The creature's red eyes looked dangerously at him, and John momentarily ignored the burning that throbbed in his leg. In a quick movement, John covers his face with his arm, in an almost pathetic attempt to protect himself, and the werewolf, so fast and hungry, grabs John's arm with one hand, digging a powerful sharp claw into the warm, soft flesh, making the young man's blood flow. Seeing fresh blood drain right in front of him, the werewolf approaches his snout and pulls his huge tongue out, licking the sweet nectar that drips from the wound he has just created.

John's agonized scream echoes through the forest as blood runs down the newly formed wound. That’s it. He was going to die. He just wanted to have a chance to tell Arthur how much he loved him. And now, he was here, and he would probably die in the most torturous way possible.

But... the pressure had stopped. Why wasn't the beast tearing his arm off?

When the tongue touches the blood, something is agitated in the creature's mind.

**_... J-John...?_ **

Arthur's voice hit the wolf's mind like a hammer. He knew that smell, that taste, that blood.He had experienced that sweet taste when he had bitten John. When he had marked him as his mate.

The werewolf's tongue caressed John's wound. The beast quickly removes the claws from John's arm, leaving enormous relief in the sore spot.  
  
Crying, John pulled his arm away from his face, looking at the beast. The tears and the blood had mixed. The young man could have sworn he heard the werewolf whimper. 

The werewolf looked at John. He was one step away from ripping out his mate's throat. 

_**NO! JOHN! YOU HURT HIM! YOU DAMN THING!! You hurt... I-I hurt him... we... we... hurt... him...**_

  
  
Arthur stirred within the creature's mind. He tasted John's blood in his mouth, it was fresh, his mate was hurt, _his love_ was hurt. The creature's ruby red eyes began to condense with Arthur's blues. The werewolf shook his head slightly and closed his eyes. When he opened them again, John could see the beautiful eyes of his love. “Arthur...?” The wolf's features softened. The fierce expressions changed, and John could almost swear that a large dog had appeared in front of him.

The werewolf walked away slowly, never taking his eyes off John. The young man tried to get up, groaning in pain in the process. He had forgotten for a few moments that he had an injured arm and a broken leg.

The hiss of pain caught the eye of the beast, who still seemed too confused. John held his injured arm close to his body in an unsuccessful attempt to stop the pain and bleeding. The werewolf wailed, bringing his big head close to the man's lap. John winced.

“I-It's okay... I'm f-fine...” John tries to reassure the creature. But it didn't help much. The werewolf whimpers, licking the bruise his teeth have done to his mate. _His mate..._

  
_**John... forgive me... m-my mate, my love...** _

  
“A-Arthur... ouch! I'm fine... p-please... listen to me... can you hear me? Are you there?” John tried to move slowly, but his leg burned with the movement. He tried his best to concentrate, he needed to help Arthur. “Listen to me, Arthur, please. I'm here. Please stay with me... please... I'm here with you...”  
  


**_We hurt him, we hurt him... I hurt him... no, no, John, no..._ **

  
The werewolf shook his head frantically in his own mental battles. John could see that he was moving further and further away from him, and was going to lose him soon. The guilt was brooding over him, and at that moment, neither Arthur nor the beast knew what to do.

John needed to be quick.

* * *

Kezia was watching Mahala read the Tarot cards when she heard heavy boots approaching the door of the matriarch's cart. A small knock on the door was heard.

“Come in.”

The door creaked, and the floor of the wagon sagged slightly with Leander's weight. The gypsy entered the room, subtly reverencing the clan matriarch, and smiling at his younger sister.

“Good night madam.” He said looking at the old gypsy. She nodded acknowledging the greeting, not taking her eyes off the letters. “I didn't expect to see you here this late, sister. Can't you sleep? Worried about something?”His sharp eyes turned to his sister. “Or someone?”

The young woman narrowed her eyes at her brother, being completely out of patience at that very moment. Her heart was tight with concern for Arthur and John. “Nothing that can really interest you, my brother. Just keeping Mahala company. The night is so beautiful, isn't it? I decided to enjoy it a little and get out of my cabin.” Her eyes turned to the full moon, which shone brightly in the sky.

Leander's eyes followed her sister's focus. “Ah, the full moon. The unfortunate curse, isn't it? I wonder if that freak is already running wild around. Probably must have turned into the damn beast in the middle of their gang camp.” Leander laughed scornfully. “The gang members must have blown his head in the middle of the transformation. Damn disgusting thing.” He turned away from his sister and headed for the door. “The good thing about it is that John must be safe. Finally.”

“You are a heartless bastard, did you know Leander?” Hissed Kezia.

Leander's eyes went back to his sister. “Are you sure about that, dear sister? It wasn't you who saw an entire village be wiped out by these horrible and bloodthirsty beasts.” He moved closer to Kezia as she took a step back. “It wasn't you who heard our father being ripped off by a damned werewolf while trying to protect our family, and our mother screaming uselessly inside the house.” Kezia felt the cart wall hit her in the back when she was unable to walk back. His brother towered over him, almost screaming. “So don't tell me that I don't have a heart, dear little sister, when all I do is protect that pretty face of yours from these miserable creatures!”

“That's enough, Leander.” The clan matriarch's voice was firm. “Nobody here is questioning what you do to protect the clan, son, so you don't have to be defensive. Now, why don't you go get some rest? You look exhausted.”

Leander and Kezia stared at each other for a few seconds. Both without wanting to admit anything. Leander finally pulled away and started walking towards the door again, when he seemed to remember something.

“Oh, and... sis? Your 'clues' about the pack of northern werewolves seemed to be wrong, little sister. There was nothing in the Grizzilies. We spent a lot of time looking... too long, I presume. Are you sure ‘Cairn Lodge’ was the correct location?” He narrowed his eyes again.

Kezia went straight. "Yes, that's what I heard about. Sorry, the indication seemed very accurate."

"More careful next time, Kezia. We can't have mistakes like that. And the clan was left unprotected on a full moon night."

"Don't be silly, brother. You're here now, aren't you?" She said with a smug smile.

Leander did not return the smile. He just turned and left. Kezia relaxed her shoulders instantly.

"You are lucky, girl." Mahala murmured.

"I think luck wants to help John and Arthur..." Kezia countered. "Soulmates deserve to be happy."

”Soulmates?”

Kezia shrugged. "It's a sensation. I think they love each other very much, Madam. A love like theirs is hard to find. Pure, and... protective. I don't know, you can call me crazy. I just... feel."

Mahala smiled, turning over the last card. The Death.

Kezia looked at the table, her eyes widening. "Who is reading the Tarot cards for, madam?"

Mahala sighed. "Arthur. But don't be alarmed, dear. Death in the Tarot is an impactful and frightening card. But, this card does not always indicate only evils. It does not symbolize losing life, but a giant transformation. to something, with nothing to tie you to what happened. It is accepting that your past does not serve you any more, it is learning to let go. It is the moment to free yourself from everything that ties you to the past. The cart is very positive, as it is a time to work on self-confidence, it matures you. There may be doubts in which way to go at that moment, because everything will happen suddenly, so always believe in your intuition.”

Kezia is surprised to hear everything. "It's impressive. Maybe everything that happens will have a positive impact on Arthur?"

"Only time will tell. But... nothing happens by chance, dear. Always remember that."

* * *

_He will run away from me. He will run away from me and hide!_ John couldn't let that happen. Arthur was a stubborn bastard, and he would blame himself for hurting John. He needed to make him stay.

"Arthur, please look at me, I'm fine, look at me!" He hissed in pain as he felt the burning in his leg and arm. It was impossible not to feel the broken bones and the torn skin. But he had to be strong, he had to show that he was fine, even if he wasn't. It was time to show that John Marston was a strong man.

The werewolf was at an impasse. Arthur's voice echoed in his mind, in punitive words, and his heart wept when he smelled and tasted his mate's blood. He couldn't believe he had hurt his mate. The only thing that mattered to both Arthur and the beast was John. John's safety. And they had hurt the man they loved.

_**Monster. I'm a monster. I-I am...** _

He would never forgive himself for that. He needed to punish himself for that! Yes, punishment, that was what he needed. He needed to isolate himself, so as not to hurt anyone else,maybe he should hide for the good of all...

"ARTHUR! FOR GOD'S SAKE PAY ATTENTION TO ME, YOU SHITI IDIOT!"

The huge werewolf felt small when he saw the human in front of him howling at him. John looked furious, holding his bloody arm, and weeping in pain at the broken bones and crushed leg. The beast's blue eyes looked sadly at the young man, wanting nothing more than to flee.

"Stop beating yourself up and pay attention to me! The damage is already done but I'm alive! Focus on me, on my voice!" He was desperate now. "Arthur please, don't leave me, I can't run after you... not like that..." He reaches out his good arm, trying to reach the head of the beast, but the creature avoids his hand. "Listen to me. I know you're in there... I would recognize those eyes anywhere... let me help you..."

The creature lowered its head, this time letting John touch its head. "We're in this together, Arthur. You and me, together. Let it be by your side, let me help you..." He stroked the soft fur with his fingertips, feeling the beast shudder. "I am here, I will not abandon you."

The werewolf raised his head, and the blue found the brown. The beast felt like a heart swelling, and carefully approached its mate, facing its long snout in John's face. Arthur calmed down too, smelling John's soothing scent.

John's scent calms the beast, but there is also the scent of blood in the air. John is hurt. He nudges the young man's arm slightly, and John shivers slightly. Will get infected soon if he doesn't take care of the wound.

"I should visit the doctor, I think. I will go in the morning, I promise. I have some lotions in my bag that will be useful for now." He thought a little while looking at the creature. "You need to eat, I think. You will need to hunt something."

The werewolf looked at John, seeming to ponder the possibilities. He stood up looking around him. The beast was fast, but he had just been born, and he didn't know how to use his skills very well. He didn't want to leave John alone, after all he was hurt. But he really needed to feed, even if it was just a little. And the forest had a good amount of food.

John leaned against a tree, rolling up his shirt sleeve to look at the wound. It was not looking very good, he needed to clean and disinfect it, to be able to hold it until morning. "I need to go to the river, clean this up. I have alcohol with me, but first I need to get rid of the dirt... damn..."

The beast was still standing next to him. Staring at John. "Do I look like food to you? Go find something for you to eat, I'll be fine... go on, big boy..."

Suddenly, the werewolf takes John in his arms as carefully as possible because of his leg and carries him through the trees. "Hey, what are you doing? I told you to go hunting! I'll be fine!" But the creature just snorts and keeps walking quickly, until they reach the river, where he gracefully places John on the ground.He bends down next to John, leaning his nose towards the wound on the young man's arm. "Oh, yes... I'm going to clean this up. Thanks, Arthur..."

The beast rubbed its head gently on John's shoulder, being careful not to touch the injured arm. John could almost forget that a few moments ago this huge werewolf tried to rip his throat out. He actually looked like a big dog. Who would say? John let out an amused snort, a sound to reassure Arthur and show that he was fine.

Seeing that John had started to touch the wound, the beast stood up and began to sniff the air, looking for any prey. He was hungry and needed to eat, and after one last look at John, he galloped into the trees. John watched the creature slip through the foliage, and turned to the crystal river.

"We have a lot to learn, Arthur. But Kezia may be right... we will have time to learn together."

Cleaning the fresh wound, John was oblivious to the dangers of the forest, with only the light of the full moon for company...but also a pair of eyes watched him intensely, from inside the dense forest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Arthur is still confused and does not have a sensitive sense of smell and has not noticed an intruder near John. Who will be watching?


	13. Anguish of a First Night

**"Come do differently;**   
**What no one else does... "**

  
Three nights ago:

The red-haired woman walked steadily through the camp. She had an upright posture, and her heavy footsteps were heard from a distance. Her eyes were hard and cold, forged by years of battles and suffering. Only one person knew how warm those emerald eyes could be.

A person who was far... very far. And God, she was sorely missed.

She stopped, her boots burying themselves in the soft snow, in front of the local leader's tent. A tall, fat man came out of the tent, looking at the grumpy woman in front of him. Thick bear skin covered his shoulders.

"Miss Mason. What do I owe the honor of visiting at such an hour?" Said the moody leader. The makeshift tent swayed with the fierce breath of the wind.

"I'm leaving, Brawley. I'm leaving the camp tonight, and I don't know when I'm going to be back." The tall woman kept her arms crossed, and a frown on her face. Brawley looked at her and sighed tiredly. The pack had recently settled on the Canadian border, and the place had proved to be good for hunting and fishing. They were safe there, which was the most important thing too. It was not good to lose an important member. Not now.

"Look, Evangeline, it's late and today's hunt was exhausting. You must be tired too, go to your tent and get some rest, ok? Tomorrow we can talk more calmly and..."

Evangeline pursed her lips in a short growl. "I'm not asking for permission, Brawley. I'm warning you that I'm leaving. When I joined the pack I told you I wouldn't be connected to you." She narrowed her eyes, looking steadily at the leader. "Get another one to do the job with Randall tomorrow."

The man sighed tiredly, massaging his temples. "Evangeline, in three nights it will be a full moon, expect that at least."

"I can't." She said simply. Evangeline clenched her fists, she needed to go soon. Besides the full moon, something else was making the woman restless. She needed to get to the United States soon, the sooner the better. _I need to find her. Something is worrying her, she is not well._

"Evangeline..." The leader tried again. It was just making the girl even more nervous.

"I'm done here." Arranging the bow on his back, Evangeline spun on his heels, leaving the leader talking to himself. He snarled, leaving after the red-haired woman.

"We need you here, Evangeline Mason! When you joined the pack you said you would be around long enough!" Brawley practically shouted, drawing the attention of the other gang members.

"I said it would be as long as the pack was moving! They're all fine now, I mean I can go. And I never promised loyalty to you, Brawley, I just offered help."

"You're going after that gypsy girl, aren't you?it will be your ruin, Evangeline, listen..." He stopped when he saw that Evie had suddenly stopped. He knew he had touched a sore spot. But honestly, he didn't care.

She turned to him, and Brawley could see the woman's emerald eyes go dark. "Don't you dare talk about her, do you understand me? She's the only good thing that happened to me in this shitty life. So if I hear something bad about her coming out of your mouth, I'll tear your throat out..."

The man swallowed, but did not stop talking. "She is not part of our world, Miss Mason. We are terrifying beasts. Humans hate us, they hunt us... this is the cycle of life. Of our life." The man tries to argue. "A werewolf cannot get involved with a human, it puts the whole species at risk...!"

"Enough!" Evie roared, attracting the attention of the other camp members. Many there feared the leader for his strength and personality, but not Evangeline. She had always been an independent woman, used to dealing with the difficulties of living alone. "I never let anyone get in the way of my relationship with my mate, and it won't be you who will tell me what I can and cannot do, Brawley. And I live alone. I don't put anyone at risk. What I do or do not do only entails consequences for me."

Brawley growled angrily, swallowing a few words. "Well then, Miss Mason. It looks like nothing I talk about is going to change your mistaken thinking." He continued. "I hope to see you again sometime."

"We will see, Brawley. We will see." With things already packed and the red Ardennes already properly sealed, Evangeline rides, saying a quick goodbye to the people who were watching Brawley and her little argument.

"Come on, Pommagranita. We have a long way to go. But it will be worth it... Kezia will be waiting for us." Speaking the name of her mate warms up Evangeline's heart. In a few days, she would be together with her beloved. But she would need to be careful, the full moon would arrive in three days, so she needed a safe location to go through the transformation. It wouldn't be a problem, she was experienced. The red mare snorts slightly, increasing her trot in the soft snow, quickly following her destiny, leading Evie to meet her precious love.

* * *

Present:

"Ouch, ouch, ouch!" John groaned. "Damn Arthur!" He tried to clean the wound with the help of a piece of his shirt and the abundant running water of the crystalline river. Unfortunately, he was not doing a good job. In fact, he was more mumbling than cleaning the wound.

The werewolf's claws seemed to have done some damage, but not so much. Damn, what were they going to say to Dutch? Those bruises were ugly enough, and very peculiar. He would have some time to think, but he was tired. What if a hungry animal smelled the blood?

"Shit, what the hell am I going to tell Dutch...? Hosea? You better think of something, Arthur, I didn't get into this alone..."

And to top it off he had a broken leg. He had heard the bones break with the weight of the beast, and now the musculature was beginning to swell. John had not yet removed his pants to see how his leg was doing but he could see from the outline of his limb that it was bigger than the other. That is, it was swollen. And it was hurting. One more problem to solve. He needed something to immobilize his leg and prevent those bones from becoming more unsettled. And on top of all that, he was still worried about Arthur. Perhaps the werewolf was hunting for something to eat in the forest, but he must have been a little lost as it was his first time.

John kept trying to clean the wound slowly, in order to avoid the sharp pain, and he did not notice a slim figure approaching from behind. As silent and sneaky as a cougar. He only realized it and saw that it was too late when he heard the cocking of a gun right at the back of his neck.

"And now... what do we have here? Looks like I got lucky, huh?" John could hear a man's half-choked voice, but he didn't recognize it. He swallowed. Who the hell was it? "What did the winds bring to the great Gill, huh? The greatest hunter in those neighborhoods?" Said the man laughing at his own speech. "I couldn't be luckier!"  
  
"Are you hunting people, my friend?" Said John trying to remain calm. The man went around until he came face to face with John. Holding a rifle, the man was covered in animal skins, had a thick beard and a crazy look. He stank too. A lot. _What manhole did this bastard come from?_ John thought to himself.

The man let out a dark laugh. John winced slightly. "Don't play the funny guy with me, sir. The giant wolf that was with you. I saw! I'm not crazy, right?! Do you know how much money a skin like that is worth? Or maybe the whole beast?" The man said, completely paranoid. "I've been hunting one of those for some time! And they said I was crazy! They'll see! The great Gill is not crazy! He's the best! The best!" Something about the man's voice bothered John. _Damn crazy man... Arthur, wherever you are, stay there._ "I saw one a long time ago, I saw him kill a man. Nobody believed me, nobody. But the great Gill was getting ready to find the beast, yeah, I was."

As much as John wanted to believe that this man was just an idiot, he was an idiot with guns. He feared that the bastard might end up finding and hurting Arthur in some way. 

Painful anxiety began to overwhelm the young man. His chest hurt, and he feared for the older man's life. What could he do? He had no doubt that he would sacrifice himself so that Arthur had a chance to escape, but even if that hunter killed him, nothing would stop him from going after Arthur later. _What I'll do?_

* * *

The beast's snout rose in the air, sniffing again the trail the deer had left. At that point in the night, the werewolf needed fresh meat and warm blood as much as he needed air to breathe.

Both Arthur and the wolf needed to get used to each other. The two had become one, as the beat of one heart. Arthur was emerged in the density that was the wolf, adapting itself to that new shape and its new movements. Everything was new to him, but he had to give it all a try. For himself. For John.

The beast ducked again, searching for the animal's trail that had recently passed by. It was weak, but it was there. He concentrated, putting all his attention on that smell. Moving quickly through the trees, the werewolf could smell the fresh meat growing stronger. His adapted vision and sharp hearing, also managed to capture minute details. He didn't want to get too far from the place where he had left John, but there was no way to be so close, after all, the prey would not approach the clearing where a human was.

Arthur was surprised when he managed to sniff out further than the deer trail. He could also smell the testosterone the animal had left on the trail. The animal's hormones had a strong musky smell, very peculiar to the male. The deer was a male, young. He was accompanied by a small group, but he had stayed behind, so his smell was stronger than the others.

Arthur was fascinated, and the beast was sneaking around, moving smoothly across the forest floor. Even though the forest was dense and closed, and there was only moonlight as illumination, he could see wonderfully well, with an impeccable night vision.

He was feeling splendidly well, when something hit him like a club in the head. It made him dizzy, and the beast was disoriented for a few thousandths of a second.

It was nothing physical, but a feeling... a sensation.

Anguish invaded his chest, squeezing his heart, making him think of only one person. His mind cried out for his mate, called for him, wept for him.

_**...** **John,** **John,** _ **John... he needs us...**

His mate was distressed, he was afraid. John needed him, he needed them. The beast snarled dangerously, rising on two legs, sniffing the air, looking for where the scent of his soulmate came from.

It was not difficult to find the scent of John, the scent was already part of the beast, it was already impregnated in his soul. The werewolf started running towards his companion, desperate, anguished, afraid of what he might find when he got there.

As he approached the small clearing where he had left John, he could smell another mingle with the sweet scent of his soulmate. A repulsive, sour odor, characteristic of another male. The beast snarled, its possessive and protective side being activated. He could feel John uncomfortable and distressed, so the presence of this man was doing him harm.

The giant wolf crawled across the floor, approaching the clearing, and listening to the voices that came from there. His anger increased when he heard the bastard yell at John. Well, he wouldn't miss the surprise effect. Whoever is bothering John... will regret the day he was born.

* * *

John squeezed his hands until his knuckles were white. His heart sped up, and he felt cornered, like a caged animal.

"How did you domesticate that thing?" Gill asked, nudging John with the rifle. "Did you capture him when he was a puppy?"

"You are not going to hurt him." John spoke ominously. "I will not let you touch a finger on it."

Gill laughed out loud, getting even closer to the young man. "You think you can threaten me, you fucking brat?" Pointing the gun at John's head, he continued, "You can be sure that after I kill that demon, I will blow your head off, you little shit..."

John needed to buy time, needed to find a way to pull a pistol from his belt. He could not risk this lunatic looking for Arthur. He needed to delay the idiot.

"You idiot, don't you fear the creature? He could tear you apart before you can even run away!"

Gill laughs out loud, bragging. "I'm not afraid of anyone, boy. Big Gill has been preparing for months to meet the giant wolf! I'll skin him so fast, he'll still be alive when I'm done!" John ground his teeth. _Only over my dead body!_

Neither John nor Gill noticed the big wolf that was approaching the trees behind the hunter. The huge werewolf had completely forgotten his devastating hunger when it came to the safety of his soulmate. For an experienced hunter, Gill was more focused on telling John advantages, than understanding details around him. The beast took this to his advantage.

"Now, are you going to tell me where the beast went, boy? Or do I have to get the information out of you?" Gill moved closer to John... too much. "I see you're injured. Does your leg look swollen, does it hurt?" Smiling in yellow, Gill raises his foot and lowers it with all his strength over John's injured leg, making the broken bones crack even more. John lets out a cry of pure agony holding his broken leg.

The werewolf who has so far been sneaking around to sneak attack, rises on both feet, and roars. Its roar is loud, deadly, and completely menacing, causing any animal within a radius of kilometers to run desperately. The beast's pupils are completely dilated, and anger takes over the creature's aura that takes impulse and leaps forward, giving no time for the human to react.

Gill looks back as the beast roars, but in a matter of seconds, the werewolf is on top of him and his throat. He tries to scream, but his windpipe is pulled out first, when the beast's teeth find the soft flesh of its neck.

As soon as Gill's weight is lifted out of his body, John grabs his leg in an unsuccessful attempt to calm the pain. The pain is lustful, strong, and he tries to control his breathing as much as possible to calm it down. 

He could hear the beast's powerful teeth grind Gill's bones, chewing on meat and viscera. He makes a muffled and agonized noise that does not go unnoticed by the werewolf, who carries the corpse into the forest, leaving John alone again.

 _He needs to eat... he's hungry..._ of course, Arthur had not yet eaten. Gill was fresh meat, and the creature was not going to waste it. But the werewolf had the good sense to take the human's carcass away from John. Not to let the mate it even more distressed.

John whimpers and turns his attention to his broken leg, trying as hard as he can to keep it straight to stabilize the bones. He swallows the sharp pain and puts it in an upright position, trying as much as possible not to move anymore. Ripping off a piece of his shirt, he finishes washing the injured arm and wraps it around with the piece of cloth in order to avoid contact with more dirt.

"Fuck, I need a drink." John murmured to himself. His leg throbbed and so did his arm. He was so fucked up. He had to find a doctor in the morning, and fix these injuries, but now all he could and should do was wait for Arthur. He only had a leftover alcohol left over from cleaning the wound in the small bag he carried with him, but it was barely enough to take a sip. _What a shit..._

John leaned against some rocks trying to get comfortable, trying to close his eyes and focus on something else. It didn't take long for the giant wolf to come out from behind some trees, walking like a dog, with something stuck in its mouth.

John opened his eyes, looking at the big beast approaching him, shivering slightly. It still gave him the chills to look at the werewolf. "Oh, hey... what do you have there?" Arthur placed a bag next to John, walking away quickly, as if he was afraid of hurting the human in front of him just being too close. John frowned and looked at the bloody bag, remembering that he saw Gill wearing it earlier. "That idiot's bag? Thanks, A-Arthur! Let's see what's in here..." Searching the inside of the object, John finds a bottle of whiskey, balsam, and some medicine. The foolish man was even cautious.

John hurried and took a sip of the drink he had found. "Oh, good God..." He could feel his nerves unraveling as the drink went down his throat. "I needed that." 

The werewolf watched while John took the balm and the medicine from the bag, and applied it to himself. He could see the relief passing over the young man's face when he felt the effect begin to anesthetize his aching body.

John felt the pain subside and his muscles relax, giving an enormous sense of relief. He could finally breathe a little without feeling that he was about to die. "Well, I think it's better to get some rest now..." He looked at the beast, which was close to him, afraid to approach. "Can you stay close to me? I'm cold... And I know that you won't hurt me, Arthur..."

The werewolf's blue eyes stared at him in amazement, doubting the young man's words for a few moments. The creature whimpered softly, not knowing what to do.

**_I don't want to hurt him, I can't hurt him... please..._**

John realized the confusion he had caused in the creature, seeing the werewolf lower his ears completely. He stepped away from the water, reaching for him. "Come here, p-please, I'm cold..." John was trembling, with even a little fever, and the beast felt it. Slowly approaching the human's hand, he let himself be touched by John. The young man stroked the werewolf's head, scratching its pointed ears. The creature gasped happily, receptive to the touch.

The beast looks at him in silent apology, and Johm swallows. Those so beautiful blue eyes look at him like he's everything... everything. As if he were the whole world... Arthur's whole world... his mate, his life. The eyes of that bloody beast, and the eyes of Arthur, her love, were the same. The same sweet eyes full of love and warm passion that made Johm melt.

_**My love, my universe... forgive me... please, forgive me...** _

Yes, that was it. A silent apology. John closed his eyes, letting some hot tears roll down his cheeks. Finally finding the voice, he asks: "Please stay here, stay here with me Arthur..." The voice was choked, sore, and both can feel each other's pain. They are linked by an invisible but extremely strong bond that leaves them vulnerable. The mate's bond. The bond of the true soulmate.

Reluctantly, the werewolf gets closer to John, tangling his muscular and strong body in the young man's thin and fragile body. John winces as he feels the heat emanating from the beast's muscles. He's hot, like a feverish body, placing his big head against the young man's injured arm, licking lightly over the improvised bandage that John made with the piece of shirt.

John nestles against the hot body, smelling the beast. He doesn't care about the smell of blood that is impregnated in the creature's hair. He strokes the werewolf, remembering Arthur. It is Arthur who is with him, only in a different carcass, he is the man he adores, he venerates, he has loved since he was a child. He leans against the beast, feeling his eyes heavy, and sleep coming slowly.

The werewolf is alert, attentive to anything that might approach to disturb his mate's calm. He gently licks John's forehead, receiving a soft sigh in response.

"So tired... my eyes are heavy..." Before I even knew it, the whiskey had made its effect on John's tired body. He fell asleep, curled up in Arthur.

_**Sleep, John. I'll be taking care of you.** _

With the moon as his companion, Arthur did not sleep that night, waiting for dawn, and praying to God that everything would return to normal in the first rays of the sun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Arthur feels guilty 💔 don't be like that, darlin, John loves you!


	14. Don't Ask Me Forgiveness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my friends! Here is the new chapter! Sorry for the delay. Hope you like it.
> 
> Forgive me for any typo. 😊

**"Look what love does to you;**   
**It leaves you without knowing how to act**   
**When he catch you;**   
**There's nowhere to run."**

  
John woke up to the morning light hurting his eyes. It was just dawn, and the forest that surrounded it welcomed the sun that had just appeared. He rubbed his eyes slowly, brushing away the last remnants of sleep that still bothered him. It only took a little while to realize that he was alone.

"Art...?" He looked around quickly, trying to get his eyes used to the light. "Arthur?" Sitting up faster than his aching body can handle, John cannot suppress the hiss of pain that escapes his lips. A doctor, he needed a doctor.

But now was not the time for that. He moved nervously, as far as his broken leg left. The grunts of pain were still loud, and he heard a tired sigh come from behind a large tree, which was a little far from him.

"I-I'm here, J-John..." The voice was extremely tired and bruised. It scared John to death. But it was a voice. Not snarling. Voice.

"Fuck it, it's good to hear your voice, man!" A kind of relief flooded John. He couldn't see where the other man was, but just hearing his voice, it was already refreshing. 

Arthur groaned pathetically, feeling like an entire herd of bison had run over him. Every muscle in his body screamed for rest, for relief. His entire body was strained, and although the transformation into a human had not been as painful as what he had experienced a few hours ago, he felt like real shit. Completely naked, he began to move his legs slowly, beginning to feel the numb limbs again. His chest rose and fell quickly, tired from the effort of painful transformation.

"Are you okay, Arthur?" John's voice was charged with concern, and it pulled a discreet smile on the older man's lips.

"...'m fine, Marston... give me a minute." Looking quickly through the tall bushes, Arthur located where he had hidden the hunter's body during the night. The clothes, or at least the pants that the poor idiot wore, would do for something. After all, he couldn't walk around naked. And he still needed to take John to a doctor. The young man's wounds needed to be treated. It brought a bitter taste to his mouth. He had been the cause of John's pain.

John twists his fingers patiently waiting for Arthur to come back. He doesn't know how he's going to face the older man, and whether things will ever be the same again. And what he fears most, is that Arthur will be martyred for what happened.

He was not to blame. Arthur would never consciously hurt him. That certainty dominated John's heart.

He waited for what seemed like an eternity, until Arthur came out from behind the trees wearing only pants. He limped and looked exhausted. John's heart twisted when he saw the man he loved in that state. Arthur hobbled his head down to where John was, never looking into the younger man's face.

_**Look what we did to him,** _

Arthur narrowed his eyes. He felt like his whole world was falling. After all, his world was hurt. John was everything he had, it was everything he loved. He would never forgive himself for hurting John.

"Arthur?" John spoke calmly. "I'm fine, see? Don't worry." He tried in vain to calm the man down. Arthur narrowed his eyes.

"Fine? You are anything but fine, John!" Arthur said, cutting into John's heart. "Look what I did to you! John I almost killed you! John... I-I..."

"It wasn't you, Arthur. I know that, you would never hurt me, look... listen to me..." John's voice starts to become pleading, and it sounds like stabs in Arthur's ears. His love is getting agitated, nervous... it's not right...

  
  
**_Calm him down, he's in pain, he's getting too agitated, comfort him, hug him...!_ **

"John, John," Arthur jumps forward, standing just inches from John. "Let's go find a doctor, okay? Then I'll take you to camp, you need to rest... I need to get something to say to Dutch and Hosea too..."He stopped, rubbing his temples: "I need clothes too, then we talk more calmly... okay?”

John tensed, being stared at by the beautiful blue eyes he loved so much. But Arthur was right, he needed medicine and a decent dressing. The wounds would soon become infected. But something still hurt deeply in his heart.

John just nodded, silently asking for help to get up. Something inside him said, screamed, that Arthur was pushing away. He knew it wasn't the older man's fault. That the beast's instincts had taken over. But only he knew how stubborn Arthur was when he put something on his head. How to convince his love the opposite?

* * *

Arthur slowly led John to the city of Valentine. At a slow pace, because of the young man's injuries, Arthur carried him around the clock, never complaining.

No jokes, no conversation.

Arthur was serious and frowning, as if he were fighting a battle with himself. John did not dare to bring up any topic, because for the first time, he was scared. Not afraid of Arthur, but afraid to say something that could ruin everything. So the young man just decided to pay attention to the trip. The older man was carrying John as if he was no more than a feather... Arthur was not out of breath even though he was carrying an adult man at a considerable distance.

He wasn't even sweating!

John was seriously tempted to ask Arthur to let him walk for a while, instead of carrying him around like a helpless bride, but he was enjoying being so close to the other's bare chest. It was warm and cozy.

And perhaps it would be better to leave Arthur alone with his own thoughts... Then Johm leaned against the other's strong chest and relaxed, letting himself be carried away by the feeling of protection emanating from the older man.

This did not go unnoticed by Arthur. The beast was completely satisfied by John's proximity. Having his sweet mate so close and cozy, was extremely positive for both Arthur and the creature. Something inside Arthur purred... happy... _mine, mine, mine, just mine._

The feeling of possessiveness curls up in Arthur's stomach like a thick spring, making every muscle in his body tense. He had never felt that way. And it fucking scared him.

He felt the need to grab John, put him on top of a horse and disappear with him. Take him somewhere where no one would find the two more. Never. It would just be them.

No gang. No Abigail. No Dutch. No Mary. Only Arthur and John. Living their lives in the purest simplicity. Maybe a ranch? With some animals? A few horses? A companion dog? A cat to warm their feet in a cozy fireplace?

That possessive burning in Arthur's stomach calmed with the thought of a peaceful life for two. He pressed John to his chest, just wanting to protect him forever. 

They approached Valentine while the city was just waking up. Everything was calm, and they could consider themselves lucky for that. Arthur went to the doctor's office to get care for John. John started to move on the man's lap.

"Arthur... I better get down now... I can walk from here... it will be a little strange if you arrive with me. Why don't you go buy some clothes? I'll go to the doctor."

"No." Arthur was quick to say. "I'm going with you. When I'm sure you're okay, I'll go buy clothes. Quickly." John trembled under Arthur's authoritarian voice. It was not a request, it was a command. And Arthur hadn't even looked at him... John didn't feel like arguing. They would talk later, when he had the strength to do so. He just waved again, and let the older man take him to the doctor.

The doctor's office was already open, and a lovely young woman with short hair welcomed them happily when they entered.

"Hello guys!" Seeing a man on her lap from another look at her became a little worried. "Oh, well, what do we have here? Moods got a little hot at the bar?" She smiled as she walked over to them. "What happened to you, my dear?"

Arthur held John protectively in his arms, growling slightly, so that only John could hear from the vibration in the man's chest. _Don't touch! He’s mine, mine, MINE!_

The woman retracts a little, Arthur's scowl startling her.

"I'm not going to hurt your friend, right? I just want to help..." She tried to get closer again.

"Are you a doctor? You don't seem to be a doctor..." Arthur squeezes John even harder, drawing a grunt of pain from the younger man. He was really in pain.

"I am his assistant. My name is Olivia, sir. The doctor is not here yet, but I am responsible for the patients while he is gone. You can trust me, he is coming. In the meantime, I can calm your friend's pain." She looked at John, trying to analyze him. And Arthur hated it. He hated the way she looked at him. To his mate. _MINE. MATE._

"A-Arthur. P-Please... let the lady do her job... I'm in pain... a lot of pain..." John's voice came out in a whisper. Arthur's chest hurt like hell... it was all his fault.

_**Our fault, it's all our fault. If something happens to him... we go with him. We will bury ourselves with him.** _

Arthur couldn't agree more. It was not worth living in this world without his love. Reluctantly and still lost in thought, he looked at Olivia.

"Where can I lay him down? H-He is in a lot of pain..."

"Okay, come on..." Olivia led them to the service room, a small place with a stretcher. Everything was extremely clean and tidy, and Arthur could smell the cleanliness that Olivia had just done.

"What happened to you, cowboy?" Olivia asked innocently as Arthur laid John on the stretcher. The two men erected simultaneously.

"I-I was... uh... attacked. By a... c-cougar." John groaned. "Arthur saved me." He gave the older man a sweet look. Arthur bowed his head, too embarrassed. This lie was extremely painful.

"A cougar? Here? This is unheard of." The woman spoke while she brought bandages and medicine. "But you were lucky, sir. Surviving such an attack and being able to tell the story? You are both lucky."

"Damn luck, I say." Arthur grunted. John sighed, looking for his friend's hand. Arthur couldn't look the youngest in the eye, and it hurt John in a way he didn't think he would ever hurt. But he still wanted to feel Arthur's hand in his.

"Drink this, sir. It will help with the pain." John obeyed Olivia, drinking all the sour brown liquid she had poured into the glass. He winced when a shiver went through her body. "It's horrible, I know. But it will relieve. Now, I need to clean your wounds. And your leg is swollen, looks broken. Let's look at this." Looking at Arthur, she snapped, "What about you? Maybe you want to get new clothes? You look a little indecent, sir."

"I'm not leaving here."

"Arthur... it's okay, you can go..." John argued.

"You may need me."  
  
"The clothing store is right next door... you better go while the city is still empty. Go on, Arthur, I'll be fine."

Arthur seems to be agitated and not sure, "I don't want to leave you... you may need me..."

Olivia saw the stalemate and intervened. "Huh. Arthur? Listen, I'm here with him. You won't be more than ten minutes. Whatever happens, I promise I'll shout your name. And I shout it out loud, okay?" She laughed. John laughed too. Arthur didn't laugh, he looked at John's hand, which was entwined in his.

"I... won't be long... I'll be back soon... okay, John? If you need me, call me..." John shook Arthur's hand, signaling a silent yes. He was tired and sore, and he didn't want to admit it, but he wanted to be alone for a while to rest.

Arthur understood and left silently, heading for the local tailor's small establishment.

Olivia immediately started working on John. "Overprotective your friend, isn't it?"

A little groggy, John agreed. "Yes, he is..."

"Rest now, cowboy. The medicine I gave you will make you sleepy. That way I can take care of your wounds better. The doctor will be there soon." John fell asleep right after those words, too tired to ask anything. The sleep was light and dreamless, as he liked.

* * *

Olivia realized that Arthur didn't even take ten minutes. He returned wearing a red shirt and dark brown pants, along with a worn pair of boots. He rushed into the office, quickly returning to his post beside Johm, startled when he saw the young man sleeping. But he calmed down while Olivia said it was the medicine's effect.

Dr. Clarence arrived a few minutes later. Olivia greeted the boss and explained John's picture, letting the doctor know everything that had happened to the young man. Arthur's sharp eyes followed the doctor in every movement he made around John. He knew that the professional was there to treat his partner's injuries, but the wolf's instincts burned in his stomach like ember.

Under Arthur's protective gaze, the doctor manages to take care of John, sewing the wound on his arm and placing a firm splint on his leg. John sleeps almost all the time, groaning in pain here and there, but the good doctor manages to do his job without much trouble, much to Arthur's relief. John wakes up, a little groggy, and the doctor gives you some remedies for pain, and for some future infection.

With money that the hunter Gill had in his bag, Arthur managed to pay a good part of the medical expenses. He was supposed to pay the rest in two days, when he came back to get more balsam and remediate pain for John. Olivia knew that Arthur would return to pay his debt, and convinced Dr. Clemence to release the patient.

"He'll be back, doctor." Olivia said with conviction.

"I give you my word, doctor. You saved John's life. I'll be back to pay my debt. Whatever it takes." Arthur said firmly. He still thanks Clemence and Olivia for the good work, much to the woman's surprise. They had saved John, and Arthur was forever grateful.

Arthur ran to the town's stable, picking up one of his horses that was housed there, after all neither Iron Eagle nor Old Boy was close by. His faithful mount had been frightened at the time of the transformation and fled, probably going back to the camp again.

And with the money issue, Arthur wasn’t so worried, on his hurried departure from camp, he had forgotten the bag in his tent, so at least his money and his most personal belongings were safe.It wasn't much, but it was enough.

He returned to the office, where John was waiting with Olivia. He looked better, and he was no longer in so much pain. The splint on his leg was well fixed, so there was no problem riding, as long as he was sitting on his side.

Arthur helped John up, as carefully as possible. Olivia smiled, wishing them a good day, and went back inside to continue helping the doctor. Arthur made sure that John was fine, and nudged the brown horse Morgan toward the gang's camp.

"Where did you get this horse?"

"I have it recently. I bought it when we arrived at Horseshoe Overlook." Arthur explained. "It is always good to have a spare horse."

John hummed in agreement. He squeezed Arthur's waist, steadying himself on the animal as best he could. It was uncomfortable to ride a horse, but it wasn't going to be that long a trip, and being so close to Arthur, it was worth it. John remembered Old Boy. The horse had stayed at Kezia's clan camp. Well, that wasn't too bad, after all, the girl could take care of the gelding for him, until he could go back there. He was relieved that his horse was not lost. Kezia was a good person and would definitely take care of the Old Boy.

Meanwhile, something was eating at Arthur's soul: that night there would be a full moon again.would there be... another transformation? He would need a safe place to hide. He couldn't put John's life in danger again. Even if he had regained consciousness, it might not happen again.

 _I'm so screwed. All that pain again?_ _Wasn't it better for me to kill myself at once? It would be less suffering for everyone._

No, he couldn't do that.

**_We are one now, and John needs us,_ **

The beast was there, Arthur knew that. John unconsciously tightened his arms around Arthur's waist, making the older man's heart warm.

A single touch from John was enough to calm Arthur's chaotic world. He wanted nothing more than to be able to kiss John, to feel those sweet lips on his.

Feel John's pale, warm skin under his, sweating and shaking. It was everything Arthur wanted most.

The familiar smell of the gang's camp tore him out of his improper thoughts. He could hear some low voices talking away and knew they were close. They were getting close to the camp, when he could see Iron put on with the other horses. Intelligent animal. He had come home.

"My God, boys, what the hell happened?" Hosea was the first to see the two arrive. And always the most concerned, he ran to where Arthur tied the horse. "I was worried when I saw your horse coming back alone, Arthur, but I didn't think you were hurt!" He was even more terrified when he saw the splint on John's leg. "Son... John... what happened to you, my boy?" At this point Miss Grimshaw, Abigail, Dutch and Pearson also approached when they saw the movement there. This lit something primitive in Arthur's stomach. And it was not good.

"I was attacked by a cougar, old man. These animals seem to like me." John laughed humorlessly as Arthur helped him down. "If it weren't for Arthur, I would be dead."

"You seem to be lucky with that kind of animal, son." Dutch spoke, while smoking a cigar. "Did you go to the doctor? It looks really bad..."

"It's not as bad as it looks. He bit my arm, and I have a broken leg too... but I'll be fine soon, ready to get back to work."

"That's what I hope for, son. You know, we have a lot to do here." Dutch spoke a little too bitterly. "Susan, see to it that John gets better soon, we need him well if we want to get out of here soon. And Arthur, you...”

"I'm going to help John lie down and get some rest." Arthur spoke sharply. Abigail was quick to intervene.

"Oh, don't worry, Arthur. You can leave him with me now. You've done a lot for this fool. I'll take care of him from now on." Abigail stepped forward to stand beside John, and possessive jealousy blossomed inside Arthur's bowels like a flower. He was quick to grab John by the good arm possessively.

Both the beast and Arthur growled simultaneously. Possessively. Dangerously. _Mine... mine... MINE!_

_**Mine... mine... MINE!!!** _

Arthur's Adam's apple rose and fell slowly. He fought with all his might not to grab John and throw him over his shoulder and run with him into the forest. He felt the young man shudder in his arms which made him even more nervous.

Arthur Morgan gathered all his self-control and forced a kind smile on the people who looked at him. "Don't worry, Abigail. You already do too much. I'll take him to my tent, which is bigger and more comfortable. You know, I feel a little responsible for that. I was the one who told him about this cougar. And this fool went after that animal, thinking that he could hunt it alone."

"You better take him to Strauss' wagon, Mr. Morgan, there he..." Miss Grimshaw tried to start arguing just to be cut off by Arthur. He was starting to lose his temper.

"Don't worry, Susan, he's on medication, and he'll be fine. He just needs to rest, doesn't he, Johnny?" Abigail looked at the pair, grabbing John's arm. Arthur stiffened.

"Okay, but I would like to help..." She said sweetly. Arthur wanted to throw up. He liked Abigail, but any interaction she had with John made him sick. John belonged to him. And only to him. The jealousy burned and physically hurt.

The beast was restless. This was getting dangerous.

And it bordered on the unbearable when he heard a voice, as he arranged John in his own bed.

"Did the maiden get hurt again? I hope she didn't take money out of the camp box to pay for medical expenses."

Arthur pursed his lips, showing all his teeth. The canines were more pointed than normal. Only John saw it, for Abigail was glaring at the newcomer. John grabbed Arthur's arm with a good hand, trying to calm the beast.

"Get out, Micah." Abigail barked.

"This man is actually a lady, Abigail. You need a real man." Micah laughed. "It is a waste of resources."

John winces, but not out of anger at Micah Bell. For fear that Arthur would do something stupid, after all, tonight there would also be a full moon, and Arthur was still vulnerable.

"Get out of my tent, Bell." Arthur growled low. It sounded like a warning, and whoever was there could feel it.

"And you're always protecting him, aren't you, Morgan? Playing big brother?”

"GET.OUT." The final warning. Abigail winced at the command, swallowing hard.Whoever was walking nearby, stepped up to get away, not wanting to be close to see the story unfold. John squeezed Arthur's arm even more in an attempt to calm him down. Arthur swallowed his anger, seeking comfort in his companion's eyes. John could see the blue iris starting to turn red. 

Micah took an involuntary step back.

"Fine, fine." Micah said raising his arms in  
sign of surrender. "I wish you well, Marston..." Laughing ironically, he walks off towards Dutch's tent.

"Idiot..." Abigail grumbles. "I'm going to see Jack. I'll be right back, okay? Thanks again Arthur. For taking care of this fool..."

"I think it's my destiny..." laughed Arthur, trying to control the voice. "It's okay, Abigail, go take care of Jack, I'll be here."

Abigail said goodbye to John and Arthur, leaving the tent and lowering the heavy flaps of the canvas. Leaving the two men alone. John twisted his fingers. Arthur returned to silence.

"A-Arthur... I..." It didn't take long for John to see Arthur kneeling beside the bed.

"Forgive me, John. Please forgive me." The cowboy's eyes were low and sad, and it hurt to see Arthur like that.

"Sorry? For what? Arthur please...!"  
  
"For what ?! John Marston, I almost killed you! John, my God..." Putting his hands over his face, Arthur let the frustration out. "I hurt you... you are the most precious thing I have, Marston, and I almost killed you!"

John was still trying to process the words he had heard. _The most precious thing?_ But now was not the time, he needed to comfort Arthur. He needed to talk to him, the full moon would come in a few hours.

"Arthur, listen to me please..." With difficulty, he turns around, grabbing the older man's face with his hands. "Your first transformation was chaotic, but it will get better, trust me. We will get through this together, okay? Kezia knows this better than I do, and I intend to talk to her better." Arthur frowned, but before he said anything, John asked, "Do you trust me?"

Arthur did not hesitate to answer.  
  
"With my life."

John smiled, bringing the face of the man he loved close to his own, sealing Arthur's anxious lips against his own. The beast purred happily.

Those lips. Those hot lips were the only ones that could tame the beast.

John Marston... dominated a dangerous beast.

Arthur groaned at the contact, licking the young man's lips. He longed for his mate's body, longed to mark him, to show everyone that he belonged to him. A cramp hit John's injured arm, making him groan in pain.

Arthur pulled away from the kiss immediately, looking worriedly at John.

"You need to rest, John. And I... I need to find a safe place to spend the night." Arthur sighed. "A place that I can't hurt you." He didn't know how he was going to part ways with John. _How am I going to leave him unprotected? He may need me!_

**_We’ll not go away. We'll stay close. To protect him. My mate. My John. Our love._ **

"You can't be around. If someone sees you, they'll shoot. And you can hurt some Arthur gang... Charles, Javier, Lenny... the women ... Jack... good God, I don't want to don't even think about it... "He seemed disturbed by the thought. "And we have strong weapons, Arthur, you know that. They can hurt you. I don't want to risk this happening."

Arthur didn't want to admit it, but it was true. He couldn't risk being caught by someone. "I can't leave you."

"Stop being stubborn, Morgan, I'll be fine! I'll be more anxious and nervous if I know you're out there, taking risks! Think about it. I just want you to come back in one piece. Please... for me..."

_Damn it. Damn it. Damn it. Don't look at me like that. Fuck._

"Okay. I'm going. I'm going to try to prepare myself better this time. Tomorrow I want to go talk to the gypsy girl. Soon it will be dark I better go... look for a cave who knows... isolated." Arthur said grudgingly. He hated the idea of leaving John. The idea became his stomach. Would Abigail come to sleep with him? Would her smell plague the place?

Arthur now needed a good excuse to go out and spend the night. 

Reverend Swanson was coming to Arthur's tent at that time to check on John, and as he put it, bring some moral support. He was not yet drunk, so he could be a nice person to talk to.  
  
"Reverend. Good to see you here. I need to leave, I can't keep looking at John all the time. Do you think you can take a look at him for me?"

"But of course, my boy. We can talk about a lot of things, can't we, John?"  
  
"Good God, no..."

Arthur laughed without humor. "Well, it's good to hear that. I'll be back as soon as I can, Johnny. Take care." He left the tent giving his companion one last loving look. John nodded, wishing him good luck quietly. Both understood each other without needing words. Both hearts were tight and feared for each other.

It was going to be a long night.

* * *

Arthur had been gone for a few hours and John was as distressed as he could be. The full moon was already falling, and all he could think about was his love. _How would he be on that second night?_ _Stay safe... Arthur..._

Abigail was beside him, trying to make conversation, but without success. She sighed, but didn't leave. She began to change the bandages on her arm wound, to the agony of John, who began to grumble.

Outside the tent, most were around the fire, laughing and talking.  
The entire gang is startled when Lenny arrives at the camp accompanied by a stranger.  
  
"Dutch. This person wants to talk to John. He said he knows him." Lenny looked down at the gun. "He also said that it is important."

Dutch stood up, scowling. "Really? And who are you? And what makes you think you have the right to invade my camp, young man?"

The gypsy smiled, with his gold teeth. "My name is Leander, sir. I'm not here to bother you, don't worry. I just want to speak to Mr. Marston, I'll be brief, if you don't mind."

Inside the tent, not knowing why, a shiver ran down John's spine, making him shiver.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What the hell do you want now, Leander? :T


	15. A Rival

_**"I want to be with you;  
in joy and pleasure...  
if darkness comes;  
we will then hold hands;  
and partners on the road of life;  
we will be the light."** _

The entire camp looked closely at the stranger. Who was this strange man dressed differently? The gypsy sighed, running his hand over the black bandana on his head. He wanted nothing more than to just see John.

"I'm not here to do any damage. I can guarantee you. I just want to talk. And I'll be brief."

Hosea looked worriedly at Dutch. "We don't know who you are, boy. And John is hurt, he can't push himself too hard. So you understand our concern, don't you?"

Something cold hit Leander's spine. And the smile died on his face. "Is John hurt? H-How...?”

"How did you find us, young man?" Dutch spoke sharply. "This is what is bothering me the most. I have a whole family to take care of here, as you can see."  


"Don't get me wrong, Mr. Van der Linde. I've known the region for some time now, I've been here longer than you. And I'm an observer, my lifestyle forces me to be like that, if you know what I mean. My clan knew there were outsiders around here, and since I know John..." Leander began to feel anxious, moving his feet without moving. He wanted to come in and see what had happened to John, and why he was hurt. He just hoped that Dutch would let him in to see John.  


"And what exactly would you have to talk to John about?" Dutch asked again.

"Don't be offended, sir, but this is between me and him. He's very close to my sister, Kezia, and I'm more here for her. As I said, I don't intend to delay, I just want to talk to him quickly."

Dutch thought, looking closely at the man standing in front of him. Such people were better to have as a friend than as an enemy. It was more advantageous for the plans. And if he needed the gypsy to approach John for that, what was the problem? After all, he doubted that he would hurt John.

"Be quick, boy. John is hurt, and we don't want him to get any worse." Dutch's final sentence drew glances from all over the camp. Even Micah found the gang leader's behavior strange.

"Dutch! We don't know him!" Hosea was quick to intervene. "What if he..."

"Now Hosea, it's just a conversation between two civilized men. We'll be here if John needs us. That boy didn't try anything stupid, did he, son?"

"Never, Mr. Van de Linde." Leander placed one hand on his chest, leaning slightly. "Just talk."

Hosea still didn't seem completely convinced it was a good idea, but he nodded quickly. Charles squeezed one of the arrows he was sculpting, exchanging a knowing look with Javier, who was sitting on the other side of the fire, strumming the guitar. They would be prepared for anything, since Arthur was not around.

"You have our permission. The tent that John is in is the one over there. Abigail, his wife, is there too. Be brief, we'll be waiting here." Leander grimaced at the part where Dutch talked about the existence of John's wife, but decided to ignore it, quickly advancing to where the young man was.  
  
After all, he couldn't waste any time.

After the gypsy disappeared between the tabs of the tent, Micah snuck up to the leader, a cigarette hanging from his thin lips. "Boss, I don't know if it's a good idea to let a _gypsy_ get close to us like that. I don't advise you to trust that ilk. They are... sneaky... dirty..." He finished speaking by spitting on the floor, as if punctuating his speech. "Damn rabble."

"I have that in mind, Mr. Bell. I have that in mind." Dutch looked around making sure that Hosea was no longer around. "But it's nice to have those people around too. Think about the opportunities, Micah!"

Micah shares Dutch's scornful smile, getting the message. "I got it, boss. They may prove to be useful. Very clever, Dutch. I wouldn't expect anything less from you." Dutch laughed, puffing out his chest with Micah's cheap flattery. If the young Gypsy could be useful, they would surely take advantage of this opportunity.

* * *

Leander opened the tabs of the tent, slowly entering the dark environment dimly lit by a small lamp. John was lying on a makeshift bed, and beside him, a brunette woman was wiping sweat from the man's forehead. Upon noticing the entrance of a stranger, Abigail stood up, completely alert.

"Who the hell are you?!" Abigail tensed, clenching her small hands. John was startled by her outburst, but he was so sore that he had to get up slowly.

The big gypsy glared at the woman, looking at her through thick eyelashes. "I was allowed to come over here and speak to John Marston." John froze when he heard the voice. He recognized it immediately. Leander continued. "I'm here to talk to him, and only to him... So if you will excuse us... I appreciate it."

"Y-You? What are you doing here?!!" John tried to assert himself in bed, failing. He groaned in pain, and Abigail ran to his side. "Is Kezia here? Mahala? Did something happen?" He thought of Arthur instantly. Had he found Arthur!? Had he hurt him?

Upon seeing John's condition, Leander swallowed, and his expression became worried, causing the gypsy to approach the bed. "No. I came alone, calm down, please!... What happened to you, John...? Damn... what the hell?" Leander fisted his hands and held himself back from going to John and hugging him. All he wanted to do was take John in his arms and rock him. Protect him. To say that everything would be fine. _What stupid thoughts am I having?_

"I-It was a cougar... I got hurt... I shouldn't have gone hunting that t-..."John tensed, groaning in pain. "Abigail, I'm fine!"

"A cougar? Here? But wha-..." Leander stopped talking abruptly and something popped in his mind. John shivered. The gypsy stiffened and his face grew dark.

John couldn't let Abigail overhear this conversation. He needed to get her out of here. _What if she found out about Arthur?_ "Abigail, would you mind going to see Jack? He may have woken up by all this noise coming from outside."

"Tilly and Mary-Beth are taking care of him for me, John. He's ..." John cut her off.

"Please, Abigail. Go see Jack." John asked slowly. She understood. Although she didn't want to leave him, she understood. Abigail looked at him ruefully, and then looked at the gypsy with an ugly look.

"Call me if you need me, okay? I'll be outside." With slow steps she left, but Leander never looked at her. He was too busy hating Arthur Morgan at the time.  
  
With his jaw so tight that he almost gritted his teeth, he approached John.

"It was him. It was him, John. He hurt you. That damn freak!"

John squeezed the blanket that covered him, and his hands were shaking slightly. He was running away from Leander's hard stare. But he would also defend his love until the end. And he hated to hear Leander offend Arthur. "It wasn't his fault. It wasn't himself! He recovered consciousness later! Don't talk about him like that!"

"Did he regain his fucking conscience? After he almost killed you!? Fuck, FUCK! If I knew you were going to have the brilliant idea of trying to face him alone, I would have killed him a long time ago!"

John turned his face sharply, this time looking into Leander's eyes.

"Don't you dare put a finger on Arthur." He said threateningly. His gaze became sharp and dangerous.

"I'd rather you hate me for the rest of your life, than see you dead." Leander bent down to stay level with John. "If you only knew what you're doing to me, boy." John looked away again, looking at the floor. In fact... he didn't want to know. He was terrible with feelings. He loved Arthur and there was no room in his heart for anyone else.

"I will protect Arthur until the end of my days. And if I need to protect him from you... so be it." John spoke.

Leander felt a lump rise in his throat. "Do you... do you love him that much?"

"With all my strength."

"He can kill you..."

"He's not going to kill me."

"John..."

"I'm sure about that."

Leander sighed, completely frustrated. John was stubborn, and that he couldn't deny. The young man would defend that damned werewolf to the end.

John's eyes showed all his strength and focus and Leander respected him for that. He had a hard scowl on his face.

The gypsy was startled by how much he feared losing that man. How scared he was that John would get hurt again. He looked down, looking at the thin line of the young man's mouth that trembled in front of him. _How sweet could those lips be?_

And in that moment he realized that his hatred for Arthur was not the anger that the cowboy was a werewolf... of course, that was also a reason, after all, Leander was a hunter. But ... it was much more than that. Arthur had something in his arms that he longed for. Someone he wanted almost desperately.

At the beginning it was a whim. A way to upset the damn blue-eyed cowboy. But now... it was real.

As clear as crystal clear water. As sweet as honey. As real as the air.

He was falling in love with John.

And that was not a good thing. Even for him.

* * *

The loud noise of bones being broken by teeth echoed through the cave. The werewolf chewed the meat and bones of the bear he had found in the cave, a rival for the place hidden in the middle of the forest. Arthur had found the cave just before nightfall, and that had been a blessing, as he was hopeless.

It turns out that the small cave was the home of a large brown bear, who had gone hunting. After the transformation, the beast smelled the animal, but he was so hungry that he decided that the bear would be his meal. The brown bear was big and very strong, but the hungry werewolf was much more.

After an intense fight between the two giant creatures, the beast's powerful jaw rips the bear's throat, causing the animal's body to fall to the damp cave floor. The werewolf does not wait even a minute, attacking the meat in a voracious way, breaking bones and gnashing viscera in the most brutal way.

The transformation had consumed a lot of the beast's energy, and he needed warm blood and fresh meat to be able to recover. The move to lycanthrope had been painful, but more acceptable than the last time.

There was pain and broken bones, but Arthur had felt less agony, and he felt calmer now, resting in the back of the werewolf's mind. Both were calm and at peace.

He had planned everything at the last minute, but as incredible as it all seemed, it looked good. He was in an isolated area... because there was a bear, people should stay away from the cave. Right?

And he had left Iron in a remote location too, so that the stallion would not be scared, with hay and water nearby. Then, when the full moon was gone, he would go out, put on his clothes and go back to camp. And for John...

He wanted so much to be with his mate. What if John was predicting him? The beast whined softly, leaving the bear's carcass aside, going to lie on the other side of the cave.

Suddenly, a feeling of tightness invaded his chest, leaving Arthur wusnto the beast in anguish. That damn feeling could only mean one thing.

_**John!** _

_He needs us! Let's go back!_ The beast went into a frenzy. His companion's anguish hit him like a punch, making the werewolf growl and drool. _He calls for us!_

_  
**We can not. He made us promise that we would not return. He's with the gang. He's just anxious... if he got hurt, we'd know, wouldn't we?** _

Arthur was fighting himself, trying to convince himself of that. He needed to focus here, he couldn't approach the camp transformed like that. If he got close, he would certainly want to see John, and then he could be seen. Or he could hurt someone. He knew that jealousy and possessiveness would speak louder, and he would attack anyone who was very close to his mate.

Just thinking about Abigail next to John's bed was enough to make the bile go up through his throat. _Mine... mine.... mine...!_

He couldn't get out. The beast growled angrily, completely dissatisfied. But it was John who had made the request. And Arthur had promised.

He would have to wait for the moon to disappear before he could leave. And when that happened... he would be quick to return to his lover's arms.

Just thinking about his beloved an excitement ran through the werewolf's stomach. Arthur loved John with all his soul, and he had no idea what he would do with his life if John were no longer present. He certainly would have no reason to continue.

He just wished the night would be over soon, and he could bury himself in that dark hair, and kiss that long, soft neck. John was all perfect... all delicious.

The beast purred again, excited by the thoughts that simmered in his mind. Arthur and the beast were synchronized, reveling in the scorching feeling for the younger man who was anxiously awaiting them.

* * *

Leander's eyes didn't leave John for a second. They were intense, and John felt like hiding under the blankets to escape them.

The gypsy was extremely frustrated. Nothing he said seemed to reach John. John's stubborn look was stern, and nothing in the world was going to change his mind.

"These creatures are unstable John. They kill for fun, what should I do to make you see it? No matter how much he says he cares about you when he is in human form, when the transformation takes place, he can lose his mind, and kill you!"

"Stop blaming him!" Said John through clenched teeth. Epe was struggling to keep a calm voice, and not alert the gang, but it was difficult. "He was attacked that night to protect me! I was supposed to be in his place, suffering from all this! Arthur saved me!"

"So you just feel gratitude for him?"

John sighed in frustration, hiding his face with his good hand. "I love him. With all my heart. Nothing he does is going to change that."

"And do your gang members know about his condition?" Leander bit.

John hesitated, looking at the blanket. He swallowed hard. "No. This is not a thing to count in a circle of friends... Arthur and I are still planning what to do."

Leander held out his hand slowly, as if trying to calm a cornered animal. John frowned, looking at the gypsy. The older man's hand finds the other's cheek, and caresses it lightly with his fingers. A soft caress, almost like a kiss.

"I'll be around, John. I'll be around if he tries something."

John snorted, as if the man had offended him. "I do not need it! I can deal with Arthur, thank you! And don't even think about hurting him, or doing anything against him. I'm warning you."

Leander laughed, getting up from the bed where he was sitting. "Do you know how cute you are when you want to be tough?"

John's cheeks flushed quickly. _How dare he?!_ "Cute?! I was able to show you who's cute here, you..!"

At that moment, a very nervous Abigail enters the tent. "I think you better go, sir. John needs to rest." She runs to John's side, avoiding the big gypsy's cold gaze.

"I will. He really needs to rest, right, John?" Leander said, winking at John. The young man snarled in response. _  
_

_Cheeky bastard!_

"Oh yes, before I leave ..." In a quick move, Leander jumps forward, getting inches from John's surprised face. He whispers quickly: "Tell Arthur that he has a rival." And a predatory smile graces the gypsy's face, showing his gold teeth shining.

"Hey, get away from him!" Abigail spoke. Leander obeyed, walking away and raising both hands in surrender. He didn't want problems with the gang.

"I'm leaving... I'm leaving, ma'am." Turning around, Leander opened the tabs of the tent, disappearing from John's view, making him sigh in relief.

"You have a gift for finding strange friends, John Marston." Abigail murmured.

Ah... if she knew.

* * *

The morning came as a relief for Arthur's aching body. He sighed resignedly, leaving the cave, just wanting to go back to camp. As quickly as possible.

He looked for the clothes he had hidden in a backpack in the trees and went after Iron. He couldn't waste any time. He had slept very little, almost nothing, with the feeling of anguish tearing his chest all night. He just needed to see John.

He rode as fast as he could, promising Iron Eagle a few snacks later. "Just let me get home soon, big boy."

In less than three hours he was approaching the camp. He barely heard Javier calling him, asking who he was and then greeting him.

He jumped off Iron, calling Kieran to get his saddle off. "Take care of him for me, okay, O'Driscoll? He must be tired."

"Ye-Yes, sir," Kieran didn't even bother to correct Arthur this time for his name, realizing that the man was agitated and nervous. Better to leave him alone.

Arthur aimed at his tent, wanting nothing more than to run there. He was uncomfortable with something in the camp, but he just couldn't say what. Maybe it was a bad impression?

"Arthur! You are back!" Abigail said. "John is sleeping, he had a restless night... and had a fever too." She rubbed her tired face.

"Oh, but is he okay now? What about the fever?" Arthur asked worriedly.

"Yes, Susan and the Reverend helped me with it. We managed to control it, but he was shaking a lot, and we feared the infection would come back. And after that strange man came, John was nervous, I think it got a little worse."

_Strange man?_

"What a strange man, Abigail?" The tension in Arthur's voice was almost palpable.

"I don't know him. I never saw him. He looked like a gypsy or something... stranger people... John seemed uncomfortable with his presence, but he still wanted to talk to him alone."

Arthur's teeth clenched so hard that it snapped. _Damn miserable._

_**I WILL KILL HIM!** _

Arthur could no longer hear anything Abigail said. He just marched to the tent, leaving her talking to herself.

He opened the flaps of the tent and the gypsy's scent hit him. Arthir growled loudly, clenching his hands. The sweet smell of his mate had added to the sour smell of another male.

John woke up slowly with agitation, smiling when he saw Arthur there. But his smile died when he saw the angry face of his love. Arthur was fierce. His generally calm expression is distorted by anger.

"Arthur...?"

"He was here. His stench permeated my tent! Why was he here, John?!"

"He came here, Arthur! I couldn't..."

Arthur jumped forward, throwing himself at John, forgetting that he was injured, making him groan.

Arthur was a heavy man, and without any delicacy he could accidentally hurt.

Arthur quickly grabbed John's hair, exposing the smooth skin of his neck. His nose traveled through the expanse of pale skin, sniffing and licking, tracking any smell that might be impregnated there.

Nothing. The bastard hadn't hugged or kissed John. This calmed the beast a little.

"Ar-Arthur! You are hurting me!"

He pulled away as if he had been shocked. His instincts were speaking louder, again.

"Sorry... sorry... John." Arthur felt ashamed. "I did not want... damn..."

But that smell... that stench... was making him sick... crazy with jealousy.

John grabbed his hands, squeezed them. His touch was reassuring... sweet... lovable...

"He's a hunter, Arthut, and he's looking for you." He was so afraid... afraid that Leander could somehow hurt Arthur. "I... I don't want you to get hurt..."

"That wretch is going to have to grow up long before he can hurt me, Johnny." Arthur snarled. "I don't want him to come near you... you're mine, Marston... and I'm going to have to go to him to rub it in his face."

"No! Don't go after him! Please stay here with me, please, Arthur?" John wrapped both hands around the shirt of the older man, pulling him close. "It's not worth going after him... please, just stay with me."

Arthur's anger was slowly diminishing, while his mate rubbed his chest, like a sly kitten. He ran his hand over John's back, pulling him even closer, burying his nose in that soft neck.

John's scent was intoxicating, and it was enough to make him hard. He bit the tip of the young man's ear, hearing him gasp. "You drive me crazy, you know, little John? You have me in your hands and you don't even realize it..."

John mumbled something, his tired eyes almost closing. "Stay with me until I wake up?"

"I wouldn't even think of leaving here, princess."

With a smile gracing his lips, John fell asleep, feeling safe, and knowing that Arthur would chase away any unwanted visitors during his lover's precious sleep.

Arthur watched John sleep, his mind seething with anger and possessiveness.

  
**_  
The gypsy wants to take him away from us._ **

For he would go to the end of fucking hell for John Marston. And Leander can't wait for what's to come. _He is mine. And before you can touch him, I'm going to tear you apart._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A warning: don't mess with John!  
> And Arthur didn't even know what Leander said to John! lol  
> ❤️

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, my friends! Since English is not my first language, sorry for any spelling mistakes! Tell me what you think of the story! (:


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